Son Of Moray
by whitetigerwolf
Summary: While in possession of the Phoenix Gate, the Weird Sisters turned Macbeth and Demona into James and Lily Potter. Now, almost fourteen years after James and Lily's 'deaths' their memories of that time are unlocked, and the two former allies turned enemies decide to track down their son, Harry Potter. Changed to M to be safe.
1. Prologue

**I Do Not Own Harry Potter or Gargoyles**

 **A few notes about gargoyles before I begin, Fans of the series may or may not know this, as some of it is mentioned in the comics and not in series, or because the information about gargoyles is so spread out, may not remember.**

 **Now for the gargoyle information. Gargoyles age at half the rate of humans. So a ten year old gargoyle, would be physically five, a twenty year old gargoyle physically ten, etcetera. So a gargoyle that appears twenty, would be forty years old. The reason for this being that gargoyles are only flesh and blood half the time, turning to stone the other half.**

 **Gargoyles can mate to produce eggs for four nights, every twenty years at the autumn equinox (Years ending with 7, specific years include 1987 and 2007). Six months after conception (roughly the spring equinox), the female lays the egg and ten years later, the egg hatches. This translates into, roughly, every ten years, either eggs will hatch, or gargoyles will mate. So every generation of gargoyles has a twenty year age gap, at least, between them. And that, though considered adults before this point the, without the aid of magic or science, earliest a gargoyle will conceive an egg will be when they're 49, the egg being lain at the age of 50. This would make them physically 25 when the egg is laid.**

 **Females can generally lay (Again, without the aid of magic or science), three eggs in their lifetime (exceptions being rare, and thus far not seen or mentioned in series, of cases of laying more than one egg at once). These would be at the ages of 50, 70, and 90 (25, 35, and 45, physically)**

 **Now that that's out of the way, I need to say this. Very little is actually revealed about gargoyle mating, beyond what I've stated above, besides the fact that Gargoyles don't only have sex on the nights females are fertile. So I am taking certain liberties, and to give credit where it is due, borrowing some traits the author Tribun used for his Broken Mirror Saga (A fanfiction must read in my opinion, at least if you're a fan of the Gargoyles series), specifically the ideas of 'scenting' mated couples and females being more elastic than humans…You can probably guess what that means. The reason I'm using these two things, is that they make sense. It's already shown in series that gargoyles have more sensitive noses than humans. And as for the elasticity…**

 **Picture a male the size of Goliath (arguably the largest gargoyle in cannon) and a female the size of Lexington (who as far as I know is the smallest adult gargoyle in cannon), or even vice-versa with the large female and small male, as mates. Now imagine that their reproductive organs are proportionally sized, without the elasticity.**

 **Not a fun picture is it, though admittedly one would be more painful than the other.**

 **Lastly, this story takes place after Hunter's Moon. Aside from The Journey, which is cannon in both the TV series and the Comics, nothing else from either the comics or Goliath Chronicles has happened.**

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 **Now many of you might be upset that I'm posting yet another story. My only defense is that I love this idea. That said, while I am posting the prologue and first chapter, I am several chapters into this story already. My hope is that this will give me a cushion of a few chapters if my muse leaves me suddenly.**

 **And as I said, I love this idea.**

 **Anyway, on with the story.**

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 **Prologue**

The Weird Sisters, Luna, Phoebe, and Seline, were among the most powerful of the third race. Only Oberon, Titania, and a few select others were more powerful than the three sisters.

And though very similar, each sister had slight differences from the other two.

The most noticeable, and often believed as the only, difference was that each sister had different colored hair. Luna's hair was silver, Pheobe's golden, and Seline's black.

But the most significant difference, and the most subtle, was the fact that each sister's powers were geared in different directions. It was one reason they most often acted as one. With the combined focuses of fate, grace, and fury, they were formidable enemies and powerful spell casters.

Perhaps their greatest accomplishment, or at least their most fun, in their minds at least, was the enchantments they had placed upon the mortals Macbeth mac Findlaech and Demona, a human king and a temperamental gargoyle.

It was during the time between taking the three artifacts of power (The Grimorum Arcanorum, Eye of Odin, and Phoenix Gate) from the gargoyle Goliath and his clan, and the agreed upon meeting with the Archmage, that the three sisters used an opportunity presented to them by holding the three artifacts, specifically the Phoenix Gate.

With its power, they traveled several years back in the time stream, taking Macbeth and Demona with them. Using their power, they bound Demona in her human form, wiped their memories, and turned them to infants, placing them with human families and altering memories so that said families believed them to be their respective children.

It was thus that James Potter and Lily Evans were born.

And twenty-three years later, when they were 'killed,' the sisters bound their memories and returned them to their proper time, to await the Archmage.

But not before leaving their infant son, Harry, a gift, one which would manifest once he met his parents once more.

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 **Please Review and Checkout the Challenges in My Forums and the stories I have up for adoption, posted under the title** ** _Please Adopt Me!_**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Demona, in her guise of Domonique Destine sighed in annoyance as she rubbed her temple.

Demona was, whether in her human or gargoyle form, an attractive female. Though her natural form was more muscular, with light blue skin and an appearance that matched her name, her aristocratic features, emerald green eyes, and deep red hair remained constant.

As did her ferocious temper.

She had no idea what was causing this headache. But it was most certainly annoying her, even as she tried to focus on the monthly reports her division managers had sent her. It had started around an hour ago and just wouldn't go away.

Finally, the CEO of Nightstone Unlimited gave up on reading the reports and looked at the time.

It wasn't even noon yet.

Taking a deep breath, the redhead pressed her intercom to the outer office.

 _"_ _Yes Ms. Destine?"_ her secretary, Candace, asked.

"Hold all my calls until I say otherwise," Demona instructed sharply. "I'm not to be disturbed, at all."

After getting the affirmative reply from Candace, Demona pressed the button to open the entrance to the secret office. There was a couch in there, and the gargoyle in disguise prayed that laying down to relax for a bit would rid her of the damned headache.

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Macbeth paused in his lecture once more as his headache spiked again.

The old king was currently, under the alias of Lennox Macduff, working as a college professor. Specifically a history professor. But his current lecture, ironically about his actual reign as king as opposed to what Shakespeare had portrayed him as, was being disturbed by this damn headache that had started an hour or so ago.

Though he was physically 51, Macbeth was in very good physical condition. And aside from his white hair, maintained the rugged handsomeness of the days before his deal with Demona.

Finally, Macbeth couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry," he apologized to his class, rubbing his head. "But I'm afraid we'll need to finish this lecture another time. Class is dismissed."

As soon as his students were gone, he wrote a note, canceling all his classes for the day, and taped it to the door of his classroom. Afterward, he made his way to the street, where he hailed a taxi so that he could go home and lay down.

He could come back for his car later.

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It was only once both Demona and Macbeth had lain down that their headaches faded as they fell asleep. And as they slept, memories from a life were neither was Macbeth or Demona entered their minds.

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Macbeth woke up.

Looking at the time, he realized that he had plenty of time to go to Nightsone and speak to Demona. If what he'd suddenly remembered was true, Demona and he needed to speak.

And even if it wasn't, he doubted Demona would attack him as Domonique.

It would blow her cover.

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Demona's awakening brought, not the determination of Macbeth, but the full impact of what she'd done over the years.

Though she'd only lived as Lily for twenty-two years, as a human, those years were happier than all the years she'd spent alone. The new memories also enabled her to realize just, exactly, all the harm she'd caused to her own kind throughout the years.

And though Demona wanted nothing more at that moment than try to find her son, she couldn't help but weep in shame.

Macbeth had been right. The clan had been right.

She was a monster.

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Stepping into Domonique Destine's outer-office, Macbeth didn't give the secretary a chance to say anything before saying, "I need to see Ms. Destine, now. Tell her Lennox Macduff is here."

"Ms. Destine asked not to be…."

"Damn it woman! Just tell her!" Macbeth thundered, his patience worn thin by his headache this morning and now his resurgence of memories.

The woman paled slightly, but pressed the intercom.

"Well?" Macbeth asked.

The woman gulped. "I need to wait for Ms. Destine to acknowledge the call," she explained.

Macbeth growled, and began to pace. After a few minutes, Demona's voice angrily cut across the room from the intercom. " _I said I didn't wish to be disturbed!_ "

"I know," the secretary acknowledged, nervously. "But there's a Lennox Macduff here to see you."

There was a few moments of silence before Demona said, " _Send him in._ "

Macbeth didn't even wait for the secretary to acknowledge him as he strode to the door of the main office. Stepping through it, the old Scotsman made sure the door was securely closed before looking at the woman sitting behind the desk. To those that didn't know her, Demona looked perfectly fine.

But Macbeth knew Demona better than anyone, perhaps even better than she herself did. The slight tenseness around her eyes, and the way she didn't meet his own eyes, ensured that Macbeth knew that Demona was shaken.

Her tense question of, "What are you here for?" only confirmed his suspicions.

"Do you remember?" he asked simply.

Either Demona was truly shaken, or already knew what he was talking about, as she simply looked away from him.

It was all the answer Macbeth needed.

"We need to talk?" he said bluntly.

Demona sighed, resigned, "Yes, we do."

What followed was a conversation that lasted several hours. During this time, for the first time, Demona and Macbeth civilly discussed the breakdown of their alliance at Moray, and admitted that they both made mistakes. Macbeth, keeping his meeting with Bodhe secret, despite Demona being his chief advisor and knowing her history. And Demona for jumping to conclusions, and acting without confronting him over what she had heard. They also discussed their various encounters over the years, along with their lives as Lily and James Potter.

And they discussed the attraction between them. Demona had, at the time since she had believed she'd never see Goliath again, become enamored with her ally. If he weren't married and human, she may have pursued that attraction. But his perceived betrayal had reversed that attraction into hatred at the time. Macbeth had, though he didn't realize it was Demona at the time, pursued and married Domonique. And of course there was their life as Lily and James Potter, where they lived as husband and wife for several years before their 'death,' and at the time genuinely loved each other.

Finally, they discussed their son. And agreed that they would both use their resources to find what they could about him, and to meet again in three days to finalize their plans for retrieving him.

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 **Four Days Later**

Demona had just finished all the arrangements she needed in order for Nightstone to run without her while she traveled to Britain with Macbeth to retrieve their son.

Her eyes began to glow red as she remembered that her private investigators had discovered he was being raised by Petunia. She remembered how spiteful the woman was, and was incredibly thankful that they were not actually related. But the suspected treatment he was receiving from her and her fat whale of a husband was enough that, should it in fact be true, she knew she would have a hard time restraining herself from outright killing the woman.

Macbeth would likely have the same trouble.

She took a deep breath. They needed to wait two more weeks before they could actually retrieve Harry. Both she and Macbeth felt it best to wait until he returned home from Hogwarts, and they both needed to make their own preparations so that their sudden disappearances didn't draw any unwanted attention.

Speaking of unwanted attention, there was one last thing she needed to do.

The redhead stared at her phone for a moment, silently debating if it was worth it. She knew that, whether she told them or not, the clan would believe her up to something, especially after the events of the Hunter's Moon, something she actually regretted now.

Since they returned, she didn't know at times whether to be thankful for her memories as Lily Potter 'nee Evans, or curse them. On one hand, she still had a thousand years of memories, but on the other, her memories of Lily had allowed her to see that many of her beliefs had been wrong.

Still, perhaps she finally had a chance of getting close to her daughter, provided she prove to the clan, Angela specifically, that she had changed.

Picking up the phone, she dialed Xanatos' private line (something she only knew because of her previous partnership with the man).

" _Domonique, I wasn't expecting you to call,"_ Xanatos' voice said after several rings. Said voice was calm and cool, no doubt despite the billionaire's wariness of her after she turned the city to stone.

"I need to speak with the clan," she said bluntly. "I'd like to meet them at the castle, but I'd rather not be shot down as I approached."

There was a slight pause, before Xanatos asked, " _And what do you wish to speak to them about?"_

"Personal business," she replied coolly. "I assure you I have no intentions of harming the clan, your family, you, or even Puck. I merely wish to inform them of something, and what they, or even you, choose to do with it, is not my decision."

" _One moment."_ The line went silent, and Demona knew Xanatos had put her on hold. No doubt to discuss her request with either his wife or his assistant, perhaps even both. After about fifteen minutes, his voice came back on the line. _"Demona?"_

"Well?" she asked, slightly annoyed with how long she waited.

" _Be to the castle an hour and a half after sunset, unarmed. Land only in the courtyard. If you don't, I'll have no guilt over unleashing the steel clan on you. And as long as you abide by the terms, I'll ensure that none of the clan will start a fight, and you'll be allowed to leave peacefully."_

"I'll be there," she sighed.

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The line went dead, and Xanatos raised an eyebrow at his wife.

"That was interesting," Fox said flatly. "I wonder what she wants to tell the clan."

"As do I my dear," Xanatos agreed. He picked up his phone again, "Could you go over our defenses with Owen? I'll join you both in a minute, but I need to call Maza."

"Playing messenger boy David?" Fox asked amused.

Xanatos chuckled. "I simply figured that since no one gets under Demona's skin like the good detective, it would beneficial that she be here. Especially since Goliath is likely to tell her what happened anyway."

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 **That Night, Sunset**

David Xanatos stood beside Elisa Maza as they waited for the clan to awaken from their stone sleep. Currently, the two were standing on the tallest tower, facing the stone form of Goliath.

Soon, the sun set below the horizon, and cracks started to spread over the stone. Both Elisa and Xanatos shielded themselves with their arms as Goliath threw the stone fragments off of himself. Turning from his perch, his expression remained neutral as he spotted Xanatos, whom he still held a slight distrust of.

Goliath's name was certainly a fitting one. Standing just over seven-feet tall, with a broad, upside-down triangle frame that was virtually pure muscle, the leader of the Manhattan clan was easily one of the strongest sentient creatures alive.

Especially when you considered that, as a gargoyle, he was already stronger than most humans. Even Lexington, the smallest of the clan standing a little under four feet, was able to claw through solid stone.

Stepping from his perch, he gave a brief smile to Elisa before turning to Xanatos. "What do you want Xanatos?" he asked, tensely, but not impolitely. As much as he might distrust the man, Xanatos had allowed them to return to their ancestral home when the clock tower had been destroyed.

"We're going to have a visitor later," Xanatos said, smirking slightly.

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The clan was gathered around the courtyard as they waited for Demona to appear

Goliath, Elisa, and the Xanatos' stood together. A short distance away, on either side, stood Angela, Goliath and Demona's daughter, and then Hudson stood with Bronx. The elder gargoyle kept a hand on the gargbeast to keep him calm in the tense atmosphere. On the other side of the courtyard stood Brooklyn. The reddish-brown, beaked gargoyle's eyes had been in an almost constant state of glowing white ever since being told Demona would be visiting, and that they wouldn't be locking her back up. A little bit away from Brooklyn, Broadway and Lexington stood.

Only Owen was absent, staying in the nursery to protect Alexander, Xanatos and Fox's son, should Demona be lying about her intentions.

The steel clan robots remained hidden, but were ready to launch at Xanatos' command.

A screech announced Demona's approach, and soon the light-blue gargoyle was seen above them, diving down to land in the courtyard. Upon landing she kept her wings open, and her arms up.

"As agreed, I'm unarmed," she said, turning so that everyone could see she wasn't hiding anything. Satisfied that everyone had seen that she had indeed kept her promise, the female gargoyle cloaked her wings about her and, after a brief glance at her daughter (who's hard expression the gargess had expected after the last time she'd seen her), turned to face her former mate. "Goliath," she greeted, her voice lacking its usual hostility present when they spoke.

"Demona," he returned the greeting. "What do you wish to tell us?" he asked suspiciously.

She sighed, "What do I wish to tell you? Many things. What I'm here to tell you however, is that I'm leaving Manhattan for a little while."

"Why?" Brooklyn demanded angrily.

Demona glared over her shoulder at the clan's second before turning back to Goliath and saying, "Personal business."

"Why tell us?" Goliath asked.

The blue gargoyle stood straighter, and made sure she looked Goliath in the eye. "Because things have come to light recently that…," she hesitated, before continuing, "I have no more desire to destroy humanity."

"Yeah right!" Brooklyn snarled. "You just tried to wipe out humanity a few months ago."

"And you have no idea how much that now haunts me!" Demona snarled, her eyes glowing red as she spun around to face Brooklyn. "You have no idea what that would have cost me if it had succeeded!"

"What would it have cost?" Elisa demanded.

Demona clenched her teeth and turned to face the detective. Her eyes retained their red glow, but she didn't answer. Instead, she took several deep breaths, and the glow faded from her eyes. Looking back to Goliath, she said, "I don't trust humans, I doubt I ever will. I have been betrayed and hunted by too many. But, unless they first try to harm me or mine, I will no longer attack them or you." She paused, and looked down. "You were right Goliath, but you were wrong as well."

"What do you mean?" he asked, confused.

"You told me that Wyvern wouldn't have happened if it weren't for me." She looked up, and Goliath along with Xanatos, Fox, and Elisa, could clearly see the tears on her face, despite her emotionless expression. "I was a fool Goliath, a terrified fool. And I misinterpreted your warning."

Goliath's eyes widened.

"I became that which I feared," Demona continued. She sighed, "But even if I hadn't, Robbie came to me after he'd already spoken to Hakon. If he'd never told me, never tried to elicit my help, I could have never warned you or any of our clan of the threat. And while I know now that I should have warned you, or the rest of the clan, I was afraid of your reaction to my own part in it."

The tears were now freely falling down her face, even if her expression betrayed nothing. "I loved you once Goliath, and I was so afraid of the humans smashing us and our eggs while we slept, of smashing you while we slept, I agreed to convince you to get us all out of the castle. But I was more afraid of losing you, while we were still alive. I knew your opinion of the humans, and protecting them, and I was afraid that after I told you of what I had agreed to you would be so disgusted that you left me. I was afraid that you would leave me, and banish me from the clan."

"And then, I discovered you had been frozen in stone," the millennia old gargess continued. "What I feared most had come to pass, I had lost you, and it was my own fault for agreeing to Robbie's plan and not warning you of it. And for a thousand years, I have hated myself for it." She looked back to the ground. "I still hate myself for it," she admitted. Looking back up, she said, "And I let that hatred consume me until it was all I had. And when you were awakened, I was still so full of hate."

"When I found out about Angela, fear joined that hatred. If I was…If I was unable to protect the one I loved, who was a more than capable warrior, how could I possibly protect our daughter? THAT is why I conceived that plan on the Hunter's Moon. If there were no more humans, none of them could harm my daughter. But if I had succeeded, I know now that I would have lost the two things left in this world most precious to me. My daughter would likely never look at me again, let alone spend any time with me, but she would be safe. I could have lived with that. But…," she stopped, unwilling to explain further.

"Mother?" Angela asked, somewhat concerned.

"I think it's time for me to leave," Demona said at last. "But before I do, I know I am no longer your Angel of the Night Goliath, in fact I never can be again. So I wish you and…Maza good luck." She shuddered and muttered, "I cannot believe I just said that." Without another word, she jumped onto the wall and began to climb up to the ramparts of the castle. Once there, she jumped off, and glided into the night.

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Two weeks later, Macbeth and Demona were on a plane to the UK.

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 **Please Review and Checkout the Challenges in My Forums and the stories I have up for adoption, posted under the title** ** _Please Adopt Me!_**

 **Also, below is an out take that was originally part of this chapter. I loved it, which why I'm sharing it, but I didn't think it fit with the serious nature of the chapter, so officially, it is not part of this story. I hope you enjoy it.**

 **OUT TAKE**

But, before she jumped off of said ramparts, she paused.

Demona grinned. She may not wish to be the clan's enemy anymore, but that didn't mean she couldn't embarrass the detective. Besides, Maza needed to know this information, if she didn't already, so really, she was helping her.

Even if it would embarrass Maza.

Turning back to the courtyard she yelled down. "And Detective!" Once she was sure she had Maza's, and everyone else attention, she said, "As a sign of good faith, if you don't already know, 11 inches long, 3 thick." Without another word, she jumped off the building, and began the glide back to her manor.

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Elisa blushed at Demona's words, as did Goliath.

A smirking Fox asked, "I have to know if she meant what I think she meant?" As the blush on Goliath and Maza's face increased she said, "I knew it."

"What did she…," Broadway began to ask, but was cut off by Angela, who apparently got the meaning.

"NO!" she yelled. "As far as I'm concerned, mother never said that last statement. Now if no one minds, I am going to go watch television in the hope that I will find something that allows me to forget it." Without another word, the lavender gargess wandered off to the television room, leaving the rest of the clan to discuss Demona's words.

"I still don't get it?" Lexington stated.

Brooklyn placed his hand on his rookery brother's shoulder. "Don't feel bad Lex," the second assured him. "I don't either."

"She was commenting on how big…." Fox began, only to be cut off by Goliath.

"I think that perhaps we should all go inside and discuss Demona's apparent change of heart," the large Gragoyle said, obviously changing the topic. "Come."

"Spoilsport," Fox muttered as she followed the clan, a grin still on her face.

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	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Harry James Potter sighed as he woke up, for the final time that night. Looking at his clock, the fourteen year old wizard knew it was useless to try and go back to sleep. He'd have to get up again in half-an-hour to do his chores. With a sigh, he stood up to dress. He hadn't had a peaceful night's sleep since the third task.

The almost fifteen year old boy was lightly muscled, and built like a runner. His emerald green eyes were hidden behind a pair of round glasses, and his dark black hair was messy and disheveled.

Walking to his closet, he pulled out his clothes for the day, and debated if it was worth starting breakfast yet.

The day had barely started, and already his first day back from Hogwarts was shaping up to be horrible.

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Macbeth tensed as their car pulled up to Number 4. From the corner of his eye, he could see Demona, in her human form as it was daylight, tense up as well.

Both of them were excited and terrified of what was about to happen. They were excited because they would finally be reunited with their son, but terrified because of the fact that their son was almost fifteen years old, and they had no idea how he would respond to the fact that his parents were alive.

"Well, let's get this over with," he said, opening the door and stepping out. Demona did the same on the other side of the car, and together, they approached the door. Already, he could see the neighbors looking through their windows at them. Though to be fair, it probably wasn't everyday a luxury car pulled into the neighborhood. And both he and Demona were intimidating in their own ways.

Dressed in a red business suit, with her hair pulled back into a strict pony-tail and her nails filed to points, Demona was herself an imposing figure. The confident way she carried herself only added to this. The fact that the suit was decent, but only accentuated her figure, probably only added to the neighbor's curiosity.

Not knowing the situation they would be walking into, Macbeth wore his standard combat clothing. His long black coat hid several firearms, one of which he'd toss to Demona if the situation turned violent.

The gargess in disguise couldn't hide a firearm very well in the custom-tailored suit she wore.

Since this was her 'sister's' house, Demona stood slightly in front of Macbeth, and rang the doorbell. After a few minutes, a young boy with glasses and wearing baggy clothes answered the door. Looking at the boy, he instantly knew this was his son. Not only was there a resemblance between the boy and himself, but he had Demona's eyes and wild hair, though it was black (like Macbeth's own mother's had been) instead of the vivid red of his mother's or his own dark brown.

"Can I help you?" he asked, after a slight hesitation.

Demona smiled at him. "Yes, this is the Dursley residence, correct?"

"Yes," the boy said.

"Is Mrs. Petunia Dursley home?" Demona continued.

Before the boy could respond, the screechy voice of Petunia yelled, "Hurry up Boy! If breakfast burns, I'll put you back in that…" Petunia's voice trailed off as she rounded the corner and saw who was standing in the doorway. Her face paled and she backed away. "Impossible," she said shakily. "You're, you're dead."

Demona grinned and her eyes narrowed, given her face a feral appearance. "Hello Tuney," she greeted. Placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, she continued, "I believe we need to discuss your treatment of my son."

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Harry didn't know what to think. When he'd answered the door, he'd been shocked by the similarities between the woman before him and the pictures he had of his mother. And the man behind her, despite his white hair and beard, bore a similar resemblance to the pictures of his father.

And then his Aunt Petunia saw them, and her subsequent reaction, along with the woman's proclamation implying he was her son.

"Why don't we take this discussion inside," the man suggested, a thick Scottish accent coloring his voice.

"An excellent suggestion," the woman said. "Wouldn't you agree, sister? Unless of course you want all your neighbors to hear about how horribly you've treated your nephew."

Petunia reluctantly nodded, and the two stepped into the house, closing the door behind them. The woman never removed her hand from his shoulder.

Before anyone else could speak, the woman, who was apparently his mother Lily Potter, said, "I am going to be blunt Petunia, as I'm sure you're wondering why I'm here when I supposedly died fourteen years ago. I won't go into particulars with you, but to explain simply, after that night, James and I," she gestured to the man with her, "woke up without any memories of our lives, let alone that we were married to each other and had a son. A short while ago, we regained our memories, hence our presence on your doorstep. Now understand, during our time without our memories, James and I built new lives under new names. I myself acquired a fairly large sum of money, enough that when I regained my memories, it was nothing to hire a private investigator to discover what happened to my son. Should I even bother sharing with you what I found?" she asked, a cold iron in her voice, as she raised one eyebrow.

"What do you want?" Petunia asked, clearly afraid.

"It's not what I want that concerns you," she said. "It's what Harry wants." She looked down at him. And, in a much gentler voice than she spoke to Petunia with, the woman, his mother, explained, "Harry, I promise that you will get a full explanation of what happened that Halloween regardless of what you choose. Both your father and I know of your treatment here, and would like you to come with us. But if you'd rather stay here…?"

"No," Harry said. "I…I'd like to go with you."

Lily smiled.

The man that, if he was Harry's father, could only be James Potter, pulled a packet of papers from his coat and handed them to Petunia. "Sign these and you'll never see us again," he promised.

Petunia took the papers and quickly went to the kitchen. When she came back, her signature was in all the appropriate spots.

After taking the papers from her, James said, "Come on Harry, we'll go pack your things, and leave your mother to talk to your aunt."

Harry looked up at his mother, and she smiled and nodded. "Go on Harry, I just need to have a word with my sister."

So Harry stepped away from the two women, and walked up the stairs, leading his father to his small bedroom. Having just arrived from Hogwarts yesterday, he really didn't unpack much. "Are you two really my parents?" he asked, once they were in his room.

"Aye lad," the older man said. "I promise you we'll discuss this later, but your mother and I have too much to tell you to give you a condensed version." He looked around the room, and Harry could see his eyes harden, "This is all they give you?" he questioned.

"It's better than nothing," Harry said, embarrassed, after a moment. Without waiting he stepped forward to gather everything he owned, minus Hedwig, who was being gently rubbed by his father. Within five minutes he was done.

The man's jaw clenched at the realization that, aside from the bird, all his worldly possessions easily fit into the trunk. But instead of commenting on it, he said, "A fine bird you have here. What's her name?"

Harry smiled. "That's Hedwig," he said, handing the owl a treat. "She was one of my first friends."

James smiled and was about to comment, when a loud crash echoed loudly through the house, sending both father and son from the room. Harry noticed his father draw a strange looking gun as they ran.

When the two reached the living room, they found Lily, a furious expression on her face as she stood over Petunia, who was cowering on the couch. A smashed vase lay at the bottom of one of the walls, the indent where it struck clearly visible on the wall.

But what shocked Harry where his mother's eyes, which were literally glowing red.

"Demona!" his father said loudly, drawing her attention.

The enraged woman looked at them, before taking a deep breath. Striding towards them, the glow faded from her eyes, returning them to their natural green color. "Get your things," she said tersely, though not unkindly. Looking at his father, she said, "I'll be in the car."

Without another word, she strode from house.

"Is that usual?" Harry asked, shocked at the anger his mother displayed.

"No," James conceded. "That was rather restrained for her."

Harry looked at his father shocked. To his surprise, he was smiling.

James placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Don't worry lad, she wouldn't harm you, not intentionally. Now let's go get your trunk and Hedwig then. I doubt your mother has any patience left at the moment."

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The drive to Macbeth's London home was silent.

Demona's temper was still hot, and Macbeth knew that an angry gargoyle was slow to calm. And Demona was temperamental, even by gargoyle standards, even in her human form. The old Scotsman was sure she was trying to reign it in, so as not to say something she'd regret. But he didn't want to say anything for fear of making it harder for her. He knew that she could control her temper and remain calm when necessary, but he felt it better not to push.

He had no idea why Harry was silent, whether it was shock that his parents were alive or if he recognized Demona's mood himself.

But about fifteen minutes away from his home, Harry seemed to finally find his voice. "Why did…he called you Demona?" he asked his mother.

"That's my name," the gargoyle in disguise answered. Taking a peek over at her, Macbeth could see she was still angry, but her voice betrayed none of that anger. "Or at least one of them," she added. "But it's the one I consider my true name. On top of it, I use Domonique Destine." With a sigh she added, "It's a long story Harry, and we'll be to our destination in a few moments. I promise, after we arrive, your father and I will sit down and explain what happened."

Harry remained silent the rest of the ride.

After pulling into the driveway, Macbeth helped Harry with his trunk and led him up to one of the guest rooms. "Don't unpack too much," Macbeth told him. "We're only staying a few days, and then we'll be going to Manhattan."

"Okay," Harry acknowledged.

"Your mother and I will be down in the den when you're done," Macbeth added after a few moments silence. "Take your time."

Just as he was turning to leave, Harry asked, "Do you have another name, besides James?"

"Aye lad," he said. "Like your mother, I've gone by different names. But mine are too numerous to mention. All you really need to know is that I currently go by Lennox Macduff. But you can call me Macbeth, if you're not comfortable with Father or Dad."

"Macbeth? Like the play?" the boy asked.

Macbeth chuckled, "Yes. But again, it is a long story. If you'd rather get comfortable later though, it can be told now. Once we join your mother anyways."

Harry stopped in thought, obviously wanting to know what happened. But after a moment he said, "I'll just make sure Hedwig's comfortable, and I'll be down."

"We'll be downstairs lad."

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Walking into the den, the first thing Harry noticed was that his father, Macbeth, had changed outfits. He was now wearing khaki dress pants, brown dress shoes, a blue turtleneck, and a tan suit jacket. He was standing next to a large, unlit fireplace.

His mother, Demona, was still wearing what she had earlier, only she had shed the red suit jacket, and unbuttoned the top few buttons of her shirt. She'd also kicked off her heels and was leaning back in a chair.

And both had glasses in their hands. Harry may not be able to identify exactly what they were drinking, but he was positive it was alcohol of some kind.

"Sit down Harry," his mother instructed, gesturing to the couch across from her.

Doing as his mother suggested Harry took a seat, and looked expectantly at the two adults.

"Before we begin our tale," Macbeth began, drawing Harry's attention to him, "Understand that, as unbelievable as it may seem, it is all true. And that, regardless of your mother and I's history, we love you very much."

Licking her lips, Demona opened her mouth and began to explain. "I suppose, before we get to in depth, you must know that I am not entirely human…..

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"I think he took everything rather well," Macbeth said.

Having finished the explanation of their lives to their son, or at least the important parts, the two had allowed Harry to return to his room to process everything. This left the two immortals alone.

Demona snorted. "He looked at us both like we were lunatics."

"Did you expect anything less?" he asked. "I don't expect he'll believe anything we said until your transformation tonight." The old king finished his glass of scotch and then asked, "by the way, what caused you to throw that vase earlier?"

Demona's eyes began to glow. "That…human," she sneered the word as though it was more disgusting than shit on her foot, "kept our son locked under the stairs until he was eleven."

Macbeth's expression remained neutral. The only sign of his anger was the glass in his hand shattering from his tightened grip. The large man took a calming breath, before saying, "I'll be in the kitchen. We could all use something to eat."

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 **Please Review and Checkout the Challenges in My Forums and the stories I have up for adoption, posted under the title** ** _Please Adopt Me!_**

 **I've had a few people ask about a pairing. All I'll say for now, is that it will be a Gargoyles character, though perhaps a lesser known Gargoyles character. I'll put her in the character filter when she finally appears in the story.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Harry sat on his temporary bed.

After Macbeth and Demona's discussion with him, he wasn't sure what to believe. On hand, their tale was just so…fantastic, it was hard to believe. On the other, he hadn't believed he was a wizard at first. Even after visiting Diagon Alley the first time, he'd had trouble believing it.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock on the door, right before it opened to reveal his father.

"I just wanted to let you know that breakfast is ready," the older man informed him. "Though I suppose we should call it lunch at this point."

"Okay," Harry acknowledged.

What followed was an awkward, silent meal between the three. Eventually Macbeth asked, "So Harry, what house are you in at school?"

"Uh, Gryffindor," Harry replied. "In fact I'm on the house quidditch team."

"What position?" the older man asked, remembering the fun he had playing the game.

Harry grinned before saying, "Seeker."

"That takes a lot of skill," Demona interjected. "At least, from what I've seen. I was never as big a fan of quidditch as your father."

"I guess," Harry shrugged. "But honestly, I think the whole team are skilled flyers, or I did. Wood, our captain, graduated two years ago, and since we didn't have quidditch last year, he hasn't been replaced."

"Why didn't the school have quidditch?" Demona asked.

Harry looked down, before saying, in a less cheerful voice, "The Tri-Wizard Tournament was hosted at Hogwarts."

Seeing their son's expression, the two adults shared a look, before Demona asked, "Did something happen last year Harry?"

"Yes," Harry replied. Looking up at his parents, he said, "Voldemort came back."

Both Demona and Macbeth froze, and when Macbeth spoke, it was in a commanding, firm voice, "What do you mean, 'Voldemort came back?"

"He regained a body."

"Harry," Demona said, leaning over and placing her hand on Harry's. "We need to know what happened. And remember, your father and I know nothing about what's happened in the magical world since our 'deaths."

Harry took a breath before beginning with what he knew of the night Voldemort came to their home in Godric's Hollow.

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When Harry was finished, describing not only what he knew of that Halloween night but the events of all four of his Hogwarts years, it was just about time to eat again.

And no one felt like cooking, so Macbeth had pizza delivered.

But soon, it was almost sunset, and Demona left momentarily, and when she returned, she was wearing a loincloth and halter-top, along with several pieces of gold jewelry.

Demona sighed, and looked at her son. "Harry, this will be painful for both your father and I." At the expression Harry gave her, she explained, "The spell that connects us, and prevents us from dying unless killed by the other, also forces us to endure the other's pain. And my transformation is painf…" Demona's explanation was cut off as the sun dipped below the horizon.

But though she and Macbeth were racked by pain as Demona changed into a gargoyle, Harry didn't pay any attention to it.

He was going through his own pain.

The spell the Weird Sisters had placed upon Harry almost fourteen years previous when they took the bodies of Macbeth and Demona from Godric's Hollow activated with the reunion of he and his parents, unlocking Harry's gargoyle heritage.

His skin, darkened to the same blue as his mothers, even as wings sprouted from his back, shredding his shirt. His teeth, elongated into fangs, his fingers and toes became sharp talons, spurs grew from his knees and elbows, a brow ridge grew along his hairline, and he grew several inches. Eyes glowing white, Harry roared at the same time as his mother as their transformations finished.

Standing in his shredded clothes, Harry looked much like a male version of his mother, though with short black hair instead of long red. While muscular, as all gargoyles were, Harry wasn't broad, like Goliath. Instead, he was built more like the human Macbeth. While his muscles were more than evident, it was the build of a runner rather than a weightlifter.

"Well," Macbeth said, looking between Demona and Harry, "This changes things."

Harry, realizing his state of undress, namely the fact his pants had been shredded (which was why Demona favored skirts in her human form. If she forgot or didn't have time to change, the skirts were less likely to be rendered useless.), quickly moved his hands to cover his, much larger, privates.

Demona rolled her eyes, but tossed a blanket from the back of Macbeth's couch to Harry. "Relax Harry," she assured him. "Though gargoyles do have some standards when it comes to modesty, they're a lot less strict than humans."

Harry promptly wrapped the blanket around his midsection. Once secure, he looked at his parents, now firmly believing their story, though he did wonder why he turned into a gargoyle. "Um…what just happened?" he asked.

Macbeth sighed in thought, before sharing a look with Demona. "I suspect," the former king commented, "that the Weird Sisters placed a spell of some type on you shortly after your birth, preventing you from becoming gargoyle. Why they even gave us lives as James and Lily, I have no idea, though I do find it ironic that, after those lives, we…or rather I, fell in love with your mother again."

Demona winced at the reminder of Paris.

"For whatever reason, it was likely broken, either by time-limit, or our reuniting," Macbeth added. He shrugged. "At least, that's the only answer I have that makes sense." He looked at Demona, before looking back at Harry. "There is no telling what we would have done if our son was a gargoyle, after-all, we did not even know gargoyles still existed when we were Lily and James."

"I have to admit, that is the most logical conclusion," Demona acknowledged. "Though whether this is a permanent change, or like mine, affected by the sun, I fear we will need to wait until dawn to discover."

Macbeth was silent as he contemplated something. This was the latest of many times he'd endured the pain of Demona's transformation since regaining their memories. It…reminded him of something. He couldn't figure out what though, and it was annoying him to no end.

"So then, what now?" Harry asked.

Demona smirked slightly. "First, we need to make you a loincloth to wear, then I think I need to teach you about being a gargoyle." She turned to look at Macbeth. "Do you think you have any heavy enough cloth, or leather I could use?" she asked. "And a belt strong enough to hold it?"

Macbeth grinned. "I'm sure I can find something," he assured them.

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As it turned out, Macbeth didn't have anything, aside from several spare coats. So Demona cut them up, much to Macbeth's dismay (though even he admitted their son needed something to wear besides a blanket), to make Harry a loincloth.

As she worked, Demona began instructing Harry on gargoyles, starting with what their physical capabilities were.

"So we need to tense our muscles to cut through stone?" Harry questioned.

Demona nodded. "Yes. If we didn't have to, it would be far too easy for us to hurt ourselves unintentionally. But if we couldn't cut through stone, many of the places we need to get to in order to be high enough to glide would be inaccessible to us," she explained.

"How exactly do we glide?" Harry asked.

With a grin, his mother said, "Easily." Chuckling at the look on Harry's face she elaborated, "While you will need to learn, once you have, it's the most natural thing in the world. The worst thing a gargoyle can endure is to remain forever on the ground. It is part of our very beings, and considering how early you started flying on a broomstick, I expect you'll take to it quickly, even if it is vastly different."

"But I didn't fly a broomstick until Hogwarts?"

Smiling sadly, Demona explained. "For your first Christmas, Sirius got you a Comet broomstick. It wouldn't have been so bad, if it had been a training broomstick like your father had bought you, but it was a real, adult sized broomstick. Naturally, your father and I weren't too happy with him. We pulled him to the kitchen so we could yell at him without frightening you, but in our anger at Sirius, we left the broomstick in the room. When we came back to finish opening gifts with you, not five minutes later, you had climbed on it and were floating near the top of the tree."

She chuckled. "Of course, you almost gave your father and I heart attacks, and we quickly got you down, but though we only allowed you the training broom from then on, you loved being in the air. Now, I suspect that was your gargoyle blood emerging, as we begin trying to glide around that age." The older gargoyle smiled and looked at him. "And I promise to teach you all I know, so that when I'm done, you can glide circles around everyone else."

"Are you really that good?" her son asked.

It was with a sad smile on her face, Demona admitted, "I'm had a millennium of practice Harry. During that time, I've learned much, out of necessity." Looking back at her work, she added, "As much fun as it may be, being a skilled glider can save your life. Sharp turns can throw off pursuers, as can moving quickly through obstacles. The more skilled you are in the air, the better prepared you are to survive."

There was silence between the two for a moment, before Demona stood up, holding the finished loincloth. "Well, let's see if this fits."

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While Demona made Harry's loincloth, Macbeth decided that now was the best time to visit Diagon Alley, specifically Gringotts. Since he had no wand, he was dressed in his usual combat attire, just in case.

Stepping up to the nearest free teller, he said, "I would like to speak to Account Manager Orthak."

The goblin didn't even bother looking up at him as he continued filling out several documents. "Name?" he asked.

With a slight smirk, Macbeth answered, "James Potter."

The goblins quill stopped. Looking up, he said, "That is not an amusing joke…wizard."

"Who said I was joking," Macbeth said, not backing down as he glared at the goblin. "Now if you would be so kind, I would like to speak with my family's account manager."

With a sneer, the goblin pulled out a piece of parchment and a dagger. "Prove yourself to be Lord Potter, and I'll fetch him," the goblin said confidently. "Prove otherwise, I'll have the guards put your head on a pike." He leaned forward and grinned, his sharp teeth making him look feral. "Or you can walk away, and I'll forget all about this."

Rolling his eyes, Macbeth picked up the knife and pricked his finger, before allowing several drops to fall onto the paper. Once they had, the blood began to form several words.

 _Macbeth Mac Findlaech_

 _Aliases: Lennox Macduff_

 _James Potter_

 _Spouse: Grouch (d)_

 _Demona/Lily Evans/Domonique Destine – (Divorced from Destine, Married to Evans)_

 _Children: Luach Mac Macbeth (d)_

 _Harry Potter_

With a smirk, he slid the paper over to the goblin, whose eyes instantly widened. With some amusement, Macbeth watched as the goblin's mouth opened and closed several times before looking back at the former king.

"I will take this to Orthak at once."

Without another word, the goblin scrambled from his post and disappeared. Several moments later, the goblin returned, with another, older goblin that Macbeth recognized as Orthak.

The Potter account manager approached Macbeth, before sizing him up. "You've gotten old," he grinned after a moment.

"HA!" Macbeth exclaimed. "You don't know the half of it."

"I am sure it is a fascinating story," Orthak said, grin still on his face. "But come, let's take this conversation to my office. There's business to attend to and profit to made after-all."

"Lead the way old friend."

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 **So, this is going to be the last chapter I post for a while, not because I've gotten past what I have written, but because If I keep posting the chapters this fast, I'll have used up my reserve before I get anything new written (though I will say that since posting, I've written two new chapters).**

 **Anyway, Please Review, Check out the Challenges in My Forums (especially since I just posted a new Harry Potter/Gargoyles Challenge, the Fae Kit Challenge), and the Stories I have for Adoption under the Title** ** _Please Adopt Me!_**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

After finishing Harry's black loincloth, which did fit, Demona had given Harry a basic gliding lesson. They hadn't gone into the air, but Demona had him perform a series of exercises so that he would know what she was talking about the next night, when she told him they would go for a glide.

Macbeth returned a few hours before dawn and, after checking on Demona and his son, left them to their bonding while he went to his office to sort through the paperwork he'd brought back from Gringotts.

But come dawn, as Demona and Macbeth were wracked by the pain of Demona's change into a human, Harry turned to stone.

"Well, this complicates things," Macbeth said, after taking a few breaths and observing the fact his son had turned to stone.

Demona sighed. "You're right, but I can't say I'm disappointed. I wouldn't want him going through the pain of transformation like I must," she admitted.

"True."

Demona rolled her eyes. "I'm going to bed," she told him flatly. "We can discuss how this," she gestured to their son, "and the new knowledge of what's going on around here changes our plans when I wake up."

Macbeth grinned. "I think I'll follow your lead," the immortal former king acknowledged.

He may be immortal, and used to long hours, but even he needed sleep.

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The next evening, after waking up and spending the afternoon discussing their options, Macbeth and Demona waited patiently as the sun began to descend.

Soon Harry had awoken and Demona was a gargoyle once more.

"That…was refreshing," Harry admitted.

"Stone sleep is," Demona acknowledged with a smile. The smile faded somewhat as she said, "Harry, before we have your gliding lesson, there are a few things we need to talk about."

"What?" he asked.

"Our options now that you're a gargoyle," Macbeth clarified.

"We aren't going to make and decisions yet," Demona assured him. "We're going to focus on making sure you're comfortable as a gargoyle, and know what you're capable of. That will take a few weeks," she admitted, "and things may change by then, influencing our decisions, but we don't want to leave you in the dark about what may happen."

"Okay," Harry agreed, glad that his parents were willing to explain things to him.

"While there are other factors, the main issue is whether we remain here in England, or go to America, Manhattan specifically," Demona explained. "Right now, we are leaning towards Manhattan. While the Quarrymen are a problem, the Deatheaters are a problem here and are frankly a larger threat than the Quarrymen. Not to mention I would like to introduce you to, and have you spend some time with, your sister. I am positive Goliath would not allow her to come to England to see you, especially on my word alone. Not to mention my business is based out of Manhattan and your father still has his job at the university, not that that's needed," she added.

Harry nodded his understanding. And to be honest, he did want to meet his sister and try and form some sort of relationship with her. But he didn't know how he'd deal with his magical education, plus all of his friends were in England. "What about my education?" he asked.

"We'll teach you," Macbeth supplied. "Your mother and I have a millennia experience with magic, though admittedly your mother has more, and is more skilled in it, than I. Even if we stayed in England, we'd have to do that." He gave his son an apologetic look, "As a gargoyle, you can't attend Hogwarts anymore. For that, I'm sorry lad."

Harry gulped, he hadn't considered the fact that he couldn't go to Hogwarts. But it made sense. Even if he could attend Hogwarts, how could he attend classes if he was stone during the day? "And my friends?"

Demona gave her son a reassuring smile as she rested her hand on his shoulder. "As I've told you, both your father and I are very well off. We'll find a way to gauge their reactions to the new you, and if they still wish to be your friends, we can easily afford bringing them to America for visits." After a moment she looked over at Macbeth. "I believe that's all we need to discuss for now, unless you can think of anything?"

"Nay," Macbeth said with a smile. "Go give the lad a gliding lesson," he encouraged.

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 **A Few Hours Later**

Gliding over London, Demona smiled over her shoulder, pleased to see Harry had kept up with her.

While he wasn't near her level of skill yet, Harry was a natural glider. He learned quickly, with minimal instruction. As long as he kept practicing regularly, and by practice she meant actual aerial maneuvers rather than regular gliding, Harry actually had a chance to get to her own level of skill. He just needed to build up, and get used to, his wing muscles.

Falling back to glide above him, Demona noticed his wings trembling slightly. That was to be expected considering the workout she'd given him. It wasn't as difficult as the acrobatics she put herself through when training, which she did at least once a week but usually more to keep her skills up, but it wasn't a cakewalk either.

Coddling Harry wouldn't help him learn.

"We should head back," she said, not wanting her son to fall out of the sky.

"Do we have to?" Harry asked, disappointment clear in his voice.

Demona smiled, glad that her son enjoyed gliding. Still, he wasn't used to using those muscles yet, and she'd rather be safe than sorry. "Yes," she chided him. "As much fun as you're having, your muscles aren't used to the strain yet. I can see your wings trembling." She grinned, "That doesn't mean we can't race back," she added, before taking off rapidly.

"No fair!" Harry yelled, smiling as he chased after his mother.

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After allowing Harry a rest after his gliding lesson, during which time Harry was given advice on his gliding by Demona, Macbeth took his son aside.

"You wanted to talk to me?" Harry asked, as his father led him down a hallway.

"Aye," the old king affirmed. "I know that due to your new form, I can't teach you everything, but…," Macbeth stopped in front of a door, and opened it for them. As they stepped inside, Harry found the room to be a rather impressive armory. The room contained weapons ranging from daggers to some rather strange looking guns. "…would you allow me to give you a basic footing in combat?" Macbeth finished.

Harry looked around the room, before turning to Macbeth and asking, "Why can't you teach me everything?"

Macbeth sighed. "Were you still human, I could," he explained. "And I can teach you how to fight on the ground with great skill. But as a gargoyle, you may find yourself fighting in or even from the air, for those lessons, you'll need your mother's guidance. But I also know that there will be times you cannot fight in the air, when you are inside buildings for instance. And while you will still be able to perform feats I cannot, I can still instruct you on how to perform said feats." He grinned lightly, "Besides, your mother will likely spar against you after I'm done, when she picks up the training, just to make sure I've done my job properly. And if I've missed anything, I'll guarantee we'll both hear it."

"I notice she tends to take things rather seriously," Harry commented, remembering some of the comments his mother made about his gliding.

"That she does lad." Macbeth turned to look at her son. "You need to understand Harry, Life as a gargoyle…it's harder than life as a human. There are those out there, such as the Canmore Hunters and the Quarrymen, who would kill you simply for being what you are. Your mother has been hunted for a very long time, even before I myself hunted her. And I did hunt her Harry."

"Why?"

"Why are gargoyles hunted? Or why did I hunt her?"

"You."

"I loved my first wife Harry, and our son. They died almost a thousand years ago. I blamed your mother for their deaths, and I wanted to join them in death myself. We already explained how our immortality works, but that is why I hunted her." He snorted, almost in amusement. "When we regained our memories of being Lily and James, for the first time, we actually talked about the betrayal of our alliance. I now know that we were both at fault. But until then, I did not know of what reason she had for abandoning us in our time need." He placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "In a thousand years, Demona and I have made many mistakes son. And being alone…it gave us too much time to dwell on those mistakes, especially those first ones." He grinned lightly, "Though I'll admit that I now know I dwelled on the wrong mistakes, since I hadn't realized I made them at the time."

"So how do you two feel about one another now?" Harry asked.

"We're still working that out," Macbeth said with a slight grin. He placed his other hand on Harry's shoulder. "But no matter what happens between Demona and I, now, in the past, or in the future, know that we will always love you. And know that, when we regained our memories of you, our first thoughts were about finding out what had happened to you, and where you were."

Harry was silent a moment as he digested what Macbeth had told him. Finally he said. "I understand. And I would be honored to learn from you…Dad."

Macbeth's smiled at both his son's response, and that he had been called Dad for the first time by his son.

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 **So I've decide that I'm going to try and post chapters on Wednesdays, assuming I don't forget and life permits.**

 **I hope you Enjoyed the chapter, Please Review, Check Out the Challenges in My Forums, and the Stories I Have for Adoption under the Title:** ** _Please Adopt Me!_**


	6. Chapter 5

**Wow, I got a lot of reviews and PMs about how people felt about Harry remaining a gargoyle. Most of them weren't pleased with the decision, but I do want to assure everyone that Harry will NOT remain a gargoyle at all times. I already have a solution to this, and I even hinted at it in a previous chapter. Granted, the hint is minor, and probably went unnoticed, but still. But Harry will remain a gargoyle for a while.**

 **Now I will admit this chapter is mostly filler, but you get to see the thoughts of several characters, and I am finally introducing Harry's future romantic interest. I will explain who she is, and why I chose her, at the end of the chapter.**

 **Chapter 5**

After the sun rose, turning Harry into stone once more and Demona back into human form, she sought out Macbeth.

They'd discussed who would teach Harry to fight. And while she would be the better option, being a gargoyle herself, she had to acknowledge Macbeth's point, when he made it, that now that Harry was a gargoyle, he didn't have much he could offer to teach Harry to bond with their son.

She would have to be the one to teach Harry to glide. She was also the best choice to explain to him the physical capabilities of gargoyles, and their culture. And while Macbeth had the same Hogwarts education Demona had (as well as dabbling in it over the years every now and then), except for his life as James Potter, he'd never primarily learned magic. Meanwhile, Demona had, when she wasn't scheming or evading hunters, actively worked to learn new magic's. That made her the best choice to take over Harry's magical education as well.

And with Harry's new gargoyle body, the old Scotsman couldn't exactly take Harry out in an attempt to find something they could bond over.

So she had conceded that Macbeth could handle the start of Harry's training. Though she suspected the former king had some more ideas on how he could spend time with their son. He was subtly cunning like that. And if truth be told, Macbeth would have made an excellent Slytherin if it weren't for his personal code of honor and nobility.

She found Macbeth in the kitchen, making himself a sandwich.

"How'd he do?" she asked without preamble.

"Fine," Macbeth said, before taking a bite of his sandwich. After swallowing he added, "He's still getting used to his wings and tail however. He tripped over his tail three times, and constantly forgot he had wings that he could not only use, but needed to defend." He grinned. "That said, he did better than I expected. Our son is certainly a fighter."

Demona raised an eyebrow. "That surprises you?"

The king chuckled. "Not really," he admitted, before taking another bite.

"Do you think we'll have to adjust our timetable at all?"

Macbeth shrugged. "It's too early to tell," he admitted. "The lad appears to be adjusting well, but until we're sure he's comfortable in his new form, I don't think it's wise to reveal ourselves to the Order and Ministry."

"And neither of us want Harry anywhere near the Quarrymen until he's capable of defending himself," Demona sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

They had discussed this already of course. But even after a thousand years, the gargess in human form wasn't one for patience. Sure, she did have it and could use it, but she didn't like it.

Waiting around gave your enemies too much time to get their own shit together, as well as figure out what you were up to. And thus far, the only advantage Demona and Macbeth had over their enemies, specifically those that would harm their son, was their believed deaths (in the case of the Deatheaters) and their lack of knowledge in regards to Harry (the Quarrymen). And Demona knew that, while her son was being hunted by Deatheaters, if Castaway, as that Canmore hunter was calling himself now, ever saw Harry, he would make the obvious connection to her, the Hunter's ultimate enemy. And if that happened, Harry would be right up with her on the man's kill list, simply to hurt her.

The fact Harry would be a gargoyle would simply be a bonus for the man.

Harry's transformation had thrown off their original plans by quite a bit. Originally, they would pick Harry up and bring him back to Manhattan after a few days. After finding out about Voldemort's return, that plan had still seemed the best idea.

But Manhattan was not a great place to be a gargoyle at the moment, especially not an inexperienced adolescent gargoyle still adjusting to his new body.

Thus far, the current plan was to get Harry up to speed on his new form, so that he could escape the Quarrymen if need be, before returning to Manhattan. If it weren't for Sirius' fugitive status they wouldn't even bother with revealing themselves, as Lily and James Potter. She still wasn't sold on the idea, but Macbeth still considered Sirius to have been one of his best friends.

Personally, Demona just wanted to kill her 'old friend' Severus Snape, for leaking the prophecy that lead Voldemort to them, and Pettigrew for betraying his so called 'friends,' before going back to Manhattan and introducing her daughter and son. Sadly, Macbeth had more honor than that.

And that meant more work for Demona, as she had to adjust her original arrangements for running Nightstone in her absence from the company.

"Why can't things ever be simple," the redhead said after a moment, before turning to walk from the room. That was one thing she hated about turning into a human, actually needing sleep. And today, she couldn't get much. She had paperwork from Nightstone, and a few calls as Domonique, to do when she woke up. And she needed to get it done before she and Harry could go out gliding.

If only he'd been born a gargoyle, he'd already be an expert glider by now if that were the case.

As she walked from the room, she didn't hear Macbeth mutter, "When is anything involving us simple?"

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"Any news?" Albus Dumbledore asked the gathered members of the Order of the Phoenix.

The day after Harry's return to the Dursley's, when their shifts to watch over the boy began, the first shift, Alastor Moody himself, noticed Harry wasn't present and his belongings were missing.

Harry's aunt had been less then cooperative when they tried to ask her what happened. In fact, she had slammed the door right into Alastor's nose. And sadly, while the old, and paranoid, ex-Auror was skilled in occlumency, he didn't actually know how to perform legilimancy.

And Albus and Severus had been too busy with their respective duties as a spy and trying to get the Ministry's head out of its ass, to visit Petunia.

Which meant primary investigation of what happened to Harry had fallen to Moody. And the old Auror had reached one conclusion, Harry had left willingly.

This had meant that, in the past two days, the rest of the Order was on alert for any signs of or news from Harry.

And the negative replies from everyone Sirius spoke up. "Albus, I think it's time you paid a visit to Petunia yourself."

Sighing, he old wizard agreed. "You're right Sirius, but I already stopped in to see Petunia earlier today. I'm afraid she wasn't much help, though I may know why Harry left willingly."

"Why?" Molly Weasley asked.

"I'm afraid that some people arrived and told a rather convincing story. But what they claimed was impossible," he admitted. With a grave look he said, "They were impersonating Lily and James."

"They WHAT!?" Sirius demanded, raising from his seat.

"You heard me right Sirius," Dumbledore said. "And they convinced Petunia and Harry they were real."

The silence that followed this statement was rather grave as everyone digested the news.

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Harry smiled as he rubbed Hedwig's feathers.

The past few days had been…well, unbelievable. His parents were not only alive, but millennia old immortals. His father was the real life King Macbeth. His mother was a gargoyle sorceress that changed into a human during the day. And he himself ended up turning into a gargoyle.

And while he understood his parents pushing him to learn all these new things, he needed to know them now, it was nice to just have some time alone to think. And to spend some time with his dearest friend, even if she was an owl.

To be honest, he still wasn't sure how to feel about everything.

Being a gargoyle was different. He felt stronger, and his nose was more sensitive. Not to mention his eyes were more sensitive to light. And gliding…He thought flying a broom was fun, it was nothing to gliding on his own wings, and he could honestly admit that he couldn't wait until he could do some of the things he'd seen his mother do when she demonstrated what she was capable of. But…he'd grown up human. And discovering he was a wizard was one thing, but completely changing species…Not to mention the bits about gargoyle culture that Demona had explained to him.

Though being a gargoyle did explain why his temper ran so hot. According to what his mother had said, Gargoyles tended to be more temperamental, with a few exceptions, than humans. His father had then mentioned that Demona was even more temperamental than an average gargoyle. It was something she didn't deny.

Then there were his parents. On one hand, he'd grown up believing them to be dead, and with an aunt, who wasn't really his aunt, that hated him and passed that hatred to her family. On the other, they didn't remember they were Lily and James, let alone his existence, and when they did, they had come for him. Not to mention that both of them had been excellent parents so far.

Plus, he had to admit, they were both kind of awesome.

But he was still conflicted. Part of him wanted to be angry at them for abandoning him. But he couldn't find any real reason considering the circumstances.

Hedwig butted her head against him affectionately, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He smiled and looked at her, right into her eyes. Amber met green, and Hedwig barked lightly, causing Harry to smile.

"I love you too Hed," he said affectionately.

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Constance sat on the roof of Knight's Spur, the manor the London Clan called home, brooding.

It would be easy to mistake the large gargoyle as fat, she didn't have the most feminine appearance after-all, but that would be a mistake. Constance, was one of the strongest members of her clan. Unlike some gargoyles, who though they had evident muscle, didn't have obvious definition, Coco's muscles could be easily seen. With broad shoulders, thick muscular arms, and (sadly) not such a thin waist, many assumed she was fat upon first glance.

Her boar-like head, tusk, and the tufts of hair on her fore-arms didn't help her feminine appearance any, even with her strawberry-blonde hair pulled into pigtails.

Still, though un-mated, Constance liked to think she was attractive. And amongst gargoyles, with such differing appearances, attractiveness wasn't near as important as it was amongst humans. Constance herself was unique amongst her clan. The rest of the clan all had feathered wings, while she had leathery wings, with three claws at the mid-joint on each wing. Her tail was short and thin, barely hanging to her knees, with a small tuft of fur on the end. And her light brown hide wasn't a glaring color that made her stand out.

At thirty-seven years of age, Constance was physically in what humans would regard as their late teens, due to the slower rate gargoyles aged. She was also, for her position as Clan Second, unusually young. But Una, the Clan Leader, trusted her.

She was brooding because while she wasn't the only single gargoyle in the clan, she'd come to the realization that none of the single males, including her best friend Staghart, appealed to her. She didn't know what it was, but none of them held her interest. Several of her rookery brothers and sisters had already paired up, but she just couldn't find an interest in any of them.

"What are you doing up here all by yourself?" a concerned voice asked.

The gargess turned to find King Arthur himself standing a short distance from her. The legendary king had been awoken from his slumber on Avalon, and after recovering Excalibur, and knighting the gargoyle Griff, a member of her clan, he'd begun a search for his friend and mentor, the wizard Merlin. But the trail had gone cold, and Arthur had, at Griff's suggestion, retreated to Knight's Spur until they could find more clues to the wizard's location.

Arthur had been welcomed by the clan, and had become a friend to many of the gargoyles, Constance included.

Smiling, she admitted, "Brooding."

"About what?" Arthur asked.

"I've always dreamed about finding a mate," she told him. "But I just realized, I won't find one amongst my clan. They…I don't know, none of my Rookery brothers are of any interest to me."

"There are other gargoyle's out there," Arthur assured her. "At the very least there is the clan on Avalon, and Goliath's clan in Manhattan."

"And how am I supposed to meet them?" Constance asked, standing from where she had been sitting. "I mean, no offense, but I heard about what Goliath was going through just to get home from Avalon. And I don't like the idea of that if I don't find a mate amongst them. And from what you and Griff have said of when you met the Manhattan clan, there are only three males without mates, even if I knew of a way to visit Manhattan."

The Once and Future King snorted in amusement. "I never said it would be easy, just that there were others," he said, grinning slightly.

The gargess snorted, "No offense Your Majesty, but you suck at cheering people up."

He shrugged. "I may be a king, but I am only human," he admitted. "I can't be good at everything."

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 **A few notes then.**

 **Constance, or Coco as she is sometimes called, is a character who first appears in the SLG Gargoyles comic series. These comics were written by Greg Weisman, creator of Gargoyles, as an alternate to the third season of the show, called the Goliath Chronicles, which, aside from the first episode, Weisman had nothing to do with as Disney fired him due to creative differences. I, and many other fans, consider the third season to be mostly subpar to the other two. That said, I am not using the comics timeline, and my story is completely AU as of Hunters Moon.**

 **The reason I chose Constance as Harry's mate is that from the moment I saw her, I loved her. Not only do I like her personality, but Wild Boars, which she resembles in the way Una and Leo resemble a lion and unicorn respectively, are one of my favorite animals. They are destructive violent animals, but I still think they're pretty awesome. So I thought she would be an excellent choice for Harry's future mate. Plus, I don't see many stories involving characters from the comics, and none involving Constance, so it's something different.**

 **Lastly, just as a warning/explanation since I don't want to hear complaints about it, the next chapter involves a time skip. Mostly because the next few weeks involve most of the same thing. Harry learning to be a gargoyle.**

 **Anyway, as always, Pleas Review. Check Out the Challenges in My Forums, and the Stories I have for Adoption Under the Title:** ** _Please Adopt Me!_**


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Harry smiled as he raced through the air.

It had been a few weeks now since he'd been reunited with his parents, and Demona had finally decided he was proficient enough at gliding to not need her supervision anymore.

Of course, said lack of supervision had only come after chasing his mother through a rather complex obstacle course of buildings, clotheslines, and construction zones.

And now, he was gliding relatively alone. Hedwig had joined him, and the two of them were soaring over London. And while Harry did miss the sun, now that he went into stone sleep during the day, he had to admit, London from above, at night with all the lights shining, was a pretty amazing sight.

This…this was freedom.

When she had first explained that being grounded was the worst punishment a gargoyle could endure, Harry hadn't believed his mother. But now…Now he couldn't imagine a life where he couldn't glide.

Slowing down as he spotted a skyscraper under construction, Harry grinned. Harry may enjoy gliding itself, but, perhaps due to his mother's rather intense lessons or his own love of a challenge, he enjoyed the complexity of an obstacle course. Circling the construction site once, making sure there wasn't anyone present, Harry decide why not. There was no one present, and the beams and rafters of the building would make for a rather fun obstacle course.

Gliding above the structure, Harry tucked in his wings and began to dive…

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Constance was out gliding with Staghart.

Her rookery brother had fine white fur covering his body, cloven feet, and the head of a stag, complete with antler like horns. Like most of the clan, he had feathered wings. With a thin build, Staghart was also slightly taller than Constance.

"What's the difference between a lawyer and a snake?" Staghart asked.

Constance rolled her eyes. She loved her friend, she really did, but sometimes, he was just annoying. And for some reason, he had decided to share his rather worn out by now jokes while they glided.

He really needed some new material.

"You can trust the snake," she deadpanned, having heard the joke many, many times before.

Staghart, or Amp as he preferred to be called (yet only he did), huffed. "You're supposed to let me tell the punchline," he chastised.

"Then by all that is good and holy, get some new jokes," she told him, grinning for the first time since he started telling jokes. When she didn't get a response, she looked back at him. "Staghart?"

The male's attention was focused away from her. Pointing towards a skyscraper under construction, he said, "Is that another gargoyle?"

Constance focused on the building her friend was pointing at. Sure enough, she spotted a gargoyle weaving through the ironwork. Following close behind it was a white…something. She and Staghart were too far away to make out any details aside from the general shape of a gargoyle, with pale blue coloring.

"No one in our clan has that coloring," she said, knowing this since, as Clan Second, it was her job to know, if not the name then appearance, of every gargoyle in the clan. After a moment of thought she grinned, "I suppose we'd better introduce ourselves."

The two gargoyles adjusted their flight path towards the building.

As they got closer, they we able to see the tight turns and maneuvers this new gargoyle was pulling. They also noticed the white thing following him was a snowy white owl.

"Whoever this is, they're good," Staghart commented.

Constance knew he was correct. She knew that neither of them could pull the sudden turn around an I-beam and descent this strange gargoyle had, at least not in the cramped conditions of a building under construction. In fact, she doubted most of the clan could pull the maneuvers.

The two gargoyles watched this strange gargoyle and owl for a few more moments, until he glided clear of the building, not to far from where they were circling.

"That's some pretty impressive gliding," Constance said, drawing his attention to them.

He looked startled, clearly having not seen them.

"You're gargoyles!" he said, sounding stunned.

Staghart snorted. "Of course we are," he said amusedly. "What else did you expect, flying hamsters?"

Rolling her eyes, Constance said, "Ignore him. For some reason he thinks he's funny, despite all of his jokes being outdated or idiotic."

"Hey!" the antlered gargoyle protested.

"I'm Constance, and this idiot is Staghart," Constance introduced them.

"But everyone calls me Amp," Staghart added.

The female snorted. "Only he calls himself Amp," she told the blue skinned gargoyle.

"Harry," the Gargoyle introduced himself. "And sorry about my reaction. It's just that, aside from my mother, I've never seen another gargoyle."

"Sorry to hear that," Constance said truthfully. She knew that, aside from her own clan which actually had to restrict breeding so that couples only laid two eggs instead of the possible three, that there were few clans left, and that those clans weren't necessarily the most prosperous. Since it was a bit rude to talk on the wing, unless you were close or working together, Constance pointed down at one of the rooftops. "Why don't we land and talk some more?"

"I'd like that," the now identified Harry said.

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Macbeth was getting irritated with himself.

Ever since he regained his memories of being James, the shared pain of Demona's transformations kept reminding him of something. It was a problem that kept irritating him, even if he kept in the back of his mind.

He'd already asked Demona if there was anything familiar about the pain.

Let's just say that her rather scathing remark was actually quite restrained. The look she gave him however was anything but, and Macbeth considered himself lucky they were, well he still wasn't sure what to call their little truce. And it kept Macbeth from pushing the issue.

He felt his eyes drawn to a small knick-knack in his office.

It was a bronze statue of a stag. He smiled fondly, recalling running as a stag with Sirius, Remus, and even Peter. Those were fun days.

As his thoughts turned back to his musings on why that pain was familiar, he resolved to go out some time and change into his animagus form. He hadn't done it since regaining his memories, and he had always enjoyed it.

There was something freeing about running through the woods as a stag. He imagined Harry and Demona got a similar feeling from gliding.

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Once they landed, Constance was able to get a better look at Harry, and the snowy white owl that perched itself on his shoulder.

He looked to be about her and Staghart's age. He had messy black hair that it looked like he was trying to grow out and deep green eyes. His browridge was rather prominent, with rather defined points towards the outside of his head. His ears were elfin in appearance, being longer and pointed. He was also thin, though as with all gargoyles he was clearly muscular. But his muscle definition would be considered average amongst gargoyles. Spurs protruded from the top of both his knees and extended from his elbows. And his wings were like Constance's own, leathery, with a small hand-like appendage. And his tail was thick, long, and muscular, very much unlike most of the London clan, whose tails tended to be rather short, if they had them at all.

He wore what appeared to be a black loincloth, held up with a heavy belt.

All in all, he appeared to be a perfectly healthy gargoyle, probably of Scottish descent if she remembered her lessons on gargoyle appearances correctly.

She watched as the owl lightly nipped his ear, and he smiled. "Sorry girl," he apologized, reaching up and stroking the bird's feathers. Looking over at her and Staghart, he said, "I almost forgot to introduce you to Hedwig. She's my best friend, and the smartest owl I have ever met."

The owl seemed to stand straighter, if that was possible, and stare regally at the English gargoyles.

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After introducing Hedwig, Harry took a good look at the two new gargoyles.

The male, Staghart, looked to be built similarly to himself, in terms of body shape. Though his body appeared to be covered in fine white fur. He had cloven hooves, instead of taloned feet, which Harry imagined made scaling building a bit more difficult. His wings were featured, and didn't appear to have a talon or fingers on them. His head resembled a stag, even having horns that resembled antlers, if they weren't actually antlers. His eyes appeared to be a light blue. And he appeared to be wearing what harry thought was a blue spandex with gold trimming. If he had a tail, it was rather short as Harry couldn't see it from the position he was in.

The female, Constance, was much more muscular than him or his mother. And while in the air, he'd mistaken her for being fat, now that they were standing on the ground, or a rooftop as the case may be, he noticed she actually had a slight hourglass like figure. Her head resembled that of a boars, complete with tusk, with dark brown, almost black, eyes. She had strawberry-blonde hair that was pulled into pigtails, and matching tufts of hair on her outer forearms. Her hide was a light brown, almost tan color, though her wings, which resembled his own, were a slightly darker brown on the inside (similar to how his and his mothers were a slightly darker blue). He had managed to get a glimpse of her tail, which was short and barely fell to her knees, which had a small tuft of hair on the end. There were only three talons on either foot, one of which resided on her inner angle, that were dark brown in color and actually looked quite sturdy. She wore a green tunic that made Harry think of a dress, with thigh-high slits on both sides, for some reason. She also appeared to be wearing bracelets on both wrist, and a matching belt.

After seeing himself and his mother, and having his sister Angela described to him (along with the rest of the Manhattan clan), neither resembled what he expected other gargoyles to resemble.

"She's beautiful," Constance said, smiling at Hedwig.

"A bit full of herself though," Staghart commented, earning him a reproachful look from the owl, as well as a light slap to the back of the head from Constance.

Hedwig barked approvingly at the female gargoyle's actions.

"So what brings you to London," Constance asked.

Harry hesitated slightly. "I'm not sure how to explain it," he said, after a moment. "But my parents and I are staying in London for a while."

"Parents?" Staghart questioned. "I thought you said the only gargoyle you'd seen besides yourself was your mother?"

Harry winced slightly. "That has to do with the 'not sure how to explain it,' I mentioned. And to be honest, I should probably talk to them before I say anything else."

The two other gargoyles looked at each other a moment, before Constance spoke again. "We have a manor on the outskirts of London our clan uses. If you'd like, you can come and meet them."

"Really?"

Constance grinned. "Unless something is done to betray our trust, the London Clan welcomes all gargoyles. Though the last gargoyles encountered by our clan didn't receive a very warm welcome, but that was due to extreme circumstances."

"I think I'd like to meet a clan. I'll apologize now however if I accidently offend anyone. My mother's taught me gargoyle customs, but I've never actually used them."

"Come on then," Staghart said, stepping over to the edge of the roof, before jumping off.

Constance sighed audibly, causing Harry to look at her.

"He's my best friend, but he's always in such a hurry," she explained. Smiling at him she said, "Just follow me, and I'll lead you to Knight's Spur."

"Knight's Spur?"

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Hermione Granger sighed as she stepped out of the terminal.

She didn't really want to be here, but her parents were going to an international dentistry conference in Los Angeles and didn't feel good leaving her back in the UK, even with the Weasleys. So instead, she'd been put on a plane to Manhattan to spend the rest of her summer with her uncle and his family.

Her mother may not get along with her brother, but since the birth of her cousin, they'd heard from her grandfather that he had restrained his tendencies a bit.

Besides, they may not get along, but that didn't mean her mother and uncle didn't love one another. And her parents felt better leaving her with family. And frankly, her grandfather was getting a bit old, and lived in a small town with little to do. At least in Manhattan, her parents were sure her uncle could find something to keep Hermione occupied, besides worrying about her missing friend.

She noticed her uncle standing next to a blonde man over by baggage claim. The blonde was holding a sign proclaiming 'Hermione Granger.'

Walking towards them, she noticed her uncle smile. "Hello Hermione. You're looking good. And I swear you're the spitting image of Diana," he said, referring to her mother. He gestured to the man beside them. This is my assistant, Owen Burnett."

"Hello Uncle David, Mr. Burnett." She greeted. "I just need to grab my bags."

"Very well," her uncle said. "Owen?"

"Right away sir." The blonde turned to Hermione and said, "If you would come with me, and point out your bags, we can be under way shortly."

Raising an eyebrow at her smirking uncle, Hermione followed his assistant.

Staying with her uncle, David Xanatos, would certainly be interesting.

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"I'm sure he's fine," Macbeth tried to reassure Demona as the two stood on the roof.

There was less than half hour until sunrise, and Harry had yet to return from his glide. And while Demona had been caught out before dawn before, this was her son, who until a few weeks ago had been human, who was missing.

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself," the redhead replied, not taking her gaze from the skies as she searched them for her missing son.

The old king sighed, but resumed his own search. Demona did have a point after all.

Then a few moments later, he spotted the blue form of his son. "There!" he yelled, drawing Demona's attention to the direction he was pointing.

The two parents watched as their son raced towards them, and as soon as he landed, Demona demanded, "Where were you? Do you have any idea how close you're cutting it? Sunrise is almost here."

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized. "I lost track of time. But…I met King Arthur."

"What?" Macbeth asked, wondering if Harry had indeed met Arthur. He himself had met the legendary king, and he wouldn't blame Harry if he lost time talking to the man.

The old Scotsman may have turned down Arthur's offer for a place at his side as a knight, but that didn't mean he didn't respect the man.

Just as Harry opened his mouth to respond, the sun broke over the horizon, turning him to stone, and turning Demona human as both she and Macbeth were wracked with pain.

As soon as the pain of her transformation was done, Demona looked back at Harry and sighed. She wouldn't find anything else out about Harry's lateness until sundown. Looking over at Macbeth she asked, "Do you have any idea what he meant when he said he meat King Arthur?"

"The man's real," Macbeth said. "I actually met him, and raced against him to retrieve Excalibur. He seemed to know me, though I can't say I remember meeting him before then. If Harry met the man, I understand why he's so late."

"And if it's an imposter?" Demona asked.

Macbeth grinned, though there was no mirth in his smile. "Then I'll make sure the man wishes he'd never lived."

If this King Arthur was an impersonator trying to use his son, Macbeth would deal with it personally. Not only would he protect his son, but he respected Arthur too much to allow such a blasphemy.

He did hope it was the real Arthur. He hadn't really gotten a chance to talk to the other king during their last meeting, at least not beyond turning down his offer and a few taunts and barbs during their race for Excalibur.

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 **So I got a lot of comments about using Constance as Harry's mate. Some were positive, some were negative. I thing the most common complaint was that she resembles a pig. So I want to address a couple things. The first is that Gargoyles, while similar, are not human. Appearance is not quite as important to them as it is to humans, and what they find attractive is different. And while Harry has been raised as a human, he still has those instincts. That said, as of this point, he doesn't see Constance as attractive.**

 **Second, Constance will be pursuing him. I won't go into details since I don't want to spoil anything, but this is partly due to gargoyle culture, and partly due to Harry being raised human.**

 **Lastly, I see a lot of Brooklyn romance stories. He has a beak and horns, and of the main gargoyle cast, resembles a human the least. Yet he's more popular as a romance option than Broadway or Lexington, from what I've seen on this site. So my question is this, what's the difference between a beak and horns as opposed to a pig snout and tusk? I'm not trying to be rude, or single anyone out, but I think it's a valid question.**

 **Really, I think the big objection to Constance is that she resembles an animal, while Brooklyn doesn't.**

 **As for Hermione, I have plans for her. That's all I'll say.**

 **Anyway, I hope you Enjoyed the chapter, Please Review, Check Out the Challenges in My Forums, and the Stories I Have for Adoption under the Title:** ** _Please Adopt Me!_**

 **And for those of you wondering, Harry's first meeting with the London Clan and Arthur will be explained in a flashback the next chapter.**


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Come sunset, Macbeth and Demona waited on the rooftop for their son to wake from his stone sleep.

Once Harry had awoken, and Demona had changed back into a gargoyle, Macbeth asked, "What did you mean when you said you met King Arthur?"

Harry grinned. "I met him, and a whole clan of gargoyles…"

"What?" Demona asked, a bit shocked. "You found a clan?"

The young gargoyle nodded. "Yes."

"I think you'd best start at the beginning lad," Macbeth told him.

"While I was out gliding, I met two gargoyles. They invited me to meet their clan…"

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 **Flashback**

Harry and Hedwig followed Constance and Staghart as they glided towards the outskirts of London. They reached a large tract of land, a large estate. At the center of the estate was a large manor, surrounded by trees.

Constance looked back at him. With a smile, she said, "Welcome to Knight's Spur."

Landing on the roof next to the other two gargoyles, Harry noticed several others, who were watching him with interest. Each and every one of the gargoyles resembled an animal in some way.

"There are so many," Harry said stunned. "After the stories Mother told me, I never thought there would be a clan this big."

"These are just a fraction of the clan," Staghart said to him. "Most of the clan is actually inside the manor, and there are probably a few that decided to go out for a glide like I and Coco had."

"Coco?" Harry questioned, looking over at the large female.

"It's a nickname," she explained. "Only Staghart, and a few other's use it." She grinned and looked over at the white gargoyle. "But at least there are those who call me by it. Probably because it's a better name than Amp."

Staghart just huffed.

Harry then asked another question. "I…what's that smell?"

"What do you mean?" Constance asked.

Harry paused. He considered ignoring the females question so that he could instead ask his mother. She was doing her best to teach him about gargoyles, and the intricacies of being one. But every now and then, Harry had a question about something she had forgotten to explain. Being a gargoyle herself, Demona didn't always realize Harry wouldn't know something. Especially as she grew up as one and couldn't remember not knowing some of the more subtle intricacies of gargoyle life that Harry was completely unaware of. But considering it was still a few hours until dawn, he might forget his question before he could ask it, he decided to rely on the gargoyle he'd just met. "Some of the gargoyles, they smell similar to others?"

The two looked at him stunned. "You don't know what that means?" Constance asked clearly shocked.

Harry shrugged. "The only other gargoyle I've met is my mother. She's been doing her best to ensure I know what it means to be a gargoyle, but being just the two of us, she sometimes forget that I haven't grown up surrounded by clan."

The two gargoyles shared a look, before Staghart spoke. "I guess that makes sense. I don't remember anyone explaining what that smell meant to us, we just knew because we grew up with it and saw what it meant, even if we didn't understand the cause until we were older."

Constance nodded. "You're right." She turned to Harry and explained, "Those gargoyles that smell similar are mated pairs. When a pair decide to be mates, they begin to smell like one another. After a few couplings, the smell becomes stronger and longer lasting. About the only time the scent disappears if one of the pair bond dies, or in extremely rare cases separates."

"Or if a male ends up angering his female long enough," Staghart commented lightly.

Harry nodded his understanding. His mother had tried to explain gargoyle mating to him. And while in many ways is was simpler than human dating, it was more complex in other ways. About the only things he could remember were that courting gifts were usually small and easily carried in a pouch so as not to encumber one while gliding and that there was no real social expectation for either the male or female to approach the other. He knew that males approached females differently than females approached males, and that gargoyles typically only laid three eggs in their lifetime, every twenty years on the breeders moon (of which the current one wasn't due for a little over a decade yet) but that was about the extent of what he could remember regarding gargoyle mating.

To be fair, Demona had kind of glossed over that facet, more concerned with having Harry know about gargoyle physiology than gargoyle customs.

"Oh," Harry responded. "Thank you for explaining."

"No problem," Constance assured him. "Come on, I'll introduce you to our Clan Leader, Una."

Harry looked at the owl, which had perched on his shoulder. "Will you be alright out here?"

Hedwig bobbed her head in a nod, before jumping up and heading for the trees surrounding the manor.

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Constance and Staghart led Harry to a decently sized room, which contained a small table and a board with various things on it. In the room were two more gargoyles, a female with white coloring that had blonde hair and resembled a unicorn and a male with green coloring that not only resembled an eagle, but reminded Harry of a stereotypical biker. With them was a man with greying brown hair and beard, who strangely enough had a sword slung on the back of his chair.

"Constance, Staghart, who is our guest?" the female asked, authority in her voice.

"This is Harry," Constance introduced. "Harry, this is our Clan Leader Una." She then gestured to the male, "He is Sir Griff. And the human is King Arthur Pendragon."

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," Harry said, before asking, "King Arthur Pendragon, as in Merlin and Excalibur Kings Arthur?"

"Yes," the man responded standing from his seat. Gesturing to the sword he said, "In fact this blade is Excalibur." He gave Harry a curious look before asking, "You wouldn't happen to know a gargoyle called Demona would you?"

"You know my mother?" Harry asked, shocked.

"I've met her, and she wouldn't remember me."

"If you're really King Arthur, and I can't imagining this whole clan going alone with a fraud, I can't imagine my mother forgetting you."

"Yes well, she didn't know I was King Arthur when we fought. Not to mention her memories of the time were wiped from her."

Harry stood taller. "More memories were taken from her?" Harry questioned, standing a bit taller as his eyes began to take on a white glow.

"Peace," Arthur said holding up his hands. "I am unsure what you mean by more memories, but I she was under another's control. And she was being forced to attack the children of her previous clan on Avalon, including your sister. I doubt she would want to remember those times. Even then, it was not my decision to take her and Macbeth's memories."

"Macbeth?" Harry asked, shocked and a bit worried that his father also had some missing memories.

Arthur obviously misread his shock and explained, "Yes, and he's much nicer and much more honorable than what Shakespeare portrayed him as. How he's still alive I couldn't tell you. But after leaving Avalon I encountered him again, and though we were opponents in the race for Excalibur, I found him to be a good man. I even offered him a place as one of my knights, though he respectfully declined it."

"He never mentioned that," Harry said, more to himself, but the others still heard it.

"You know him?" Arthur asked.

Harry smiled. "I do. Though I doubt you would believe how."

"What do you mean?" Una asked, curiously.

"He's my father."

"Impossible," Griff broke in. "Gargoyles and humans can't have children together."

"Perhaps you should tell us how this came about?" Una interjected, sending a reproachful look at the male for his outburst.

"I'm not sure I can sum it up briefly," Harry admitted.

"Then perhaps you can start at the beginning," Arthur prompted.

Harry shook his head. "I wouldn't want to interrupt whatever you're doing."

"I think the search for Merlin can be put on hold for a few more hours," Una said, looking briefly at Arthur. Turning back to Harry she added, "If you're comfortable telling us the story that is."

Harry paused for a moment, before beginning with what he knew of how he came into being. He then covered his parents 'death' and how he was left with the Dursley's. He briefly touched upon his years on Hogwarts, and then his parents finding him. He then mentioned how he became a gargoyle, and at Una's prompting explained what Macbeth and Demona were teaching him.

In the end he spoke until he realized he'd need to leave soon if he would return home before dawn. Una, Arthur, and Constance escorted him to the rooftop, where Una invited him to ask his parents to come and visit the clan with him. Constance said she really hoped he'd be willing to give her some tips on flying when they saw each other again. And Arthur asked him to pass a message to his father that his offer to be one of his knights was still open if he wished it.

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As Harry left, he didn't notice Constance watching him.

"He interest you," Una stated, drawing the younger gargoyles attention to her.

"He does," Constance said, not denying the statement. "Obviously a lot has happened in his life, yet he seems to adjust to it. I mean, he grew up a regular human orphan. Then he discovered magic was real and he could wield it. Then he discovers his parents are alive, and shortly afterward he becomes a gargoyle himself. Yet despite it being only a few weeks, he can already glide better than any other gargoyle in our clan."

"Really?" Una asked, clearly intrigued.

"When Staghart and I saw him, he was racing through the I-beams of a construction site, and pulling maneuvers I can't see any of our clan pulling at those speeds."

"It would take a lot of dedication to get to that skill level in that short a time," Una admitted.

"It would," Constance said a bit distractedly.

This caused Una to look at her in a new light.

Gargoyles didn't really care for physical appearance. Sure, there was an element of physical appeal in their mating habits, but it wasn't as big an importance as it was with humans. What Gargoyles looked for in mates were certain traits. These desired traits varied from gargoyle to gargoyle. Some gargoyles looked for physical strength, fighting ability. Others looked for compassion or patience. The list of traits gargoyles looked for varied as much as the stars in the sky. And apparently this new male was displaying traits that caught Constance's interest.

Una knew it was a bit personal, but Constance was not only her second in the clan, but she'd like to consider the younger gargoyle as a daughter of sorts. "What is it that draws your interest?"

Constance looked over at her Leader, and paused a moment, but answered. "He's an amazing glider, obviously able to be dedicated to something, and has endured a lot yet seems to have adjusted to it all quite well." She paused for a moment. "Considering how little he mentioned the humans who raised him, I imagine there is much more that he endured that he hasn't told us."

"Be careful not to jump into anything," Una warned her. "I would hate for you to rush things only to find out he is not what he seems. Not to mention until recently he thought of himself as human."

"Relax," Constance said with a grin. "He has my interest, but I don't know him enough to try pursuing him. I don't even know if he'd be open to my pursuit."

 **End Flashback**

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After finishing his story, and passing on Arthur's offer to Macbeth, Harry waited for his parent's reactions.

Demona was a bit upset that she still had memories missing, but was pleased that there was apparently a large clan left in the world. She found herself actually looking forward to meeting the clan, and hoping she got along with them.

Macbeth's thoughts drifted instead to Arthur. Just off of his son's words, he was positive this was the real Arthur. And if that was the case, perhaps he had an ally here in England. And if he had an ally, perhaps there was another way to go about dealing with Voldemort and the Ministry.

"I for one would be glad to see Arthur again," Macbeth said after a moment, before looking over at Demona for her thoughts.

The redhead nodded. "I'm more interested in meeting this clan," she said. Looking back at Macbeth she asked, "Do you want me or Harry to carry you?"

Macbeth grumbled about needing to be carried briefly, before settling on Demona. Harry would be leading the way after all.

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 **Sorry about the late update, to be honest, things kept happening and I forgot I needed to upload this, even when I logged on and read a few stories. I was actually about to do some work on a different story, and noticed this in my que of saved stories, reminding me to post it.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy, especially with my brief explanation of gargoyle attraction. Please Review, Check Out the Challenges in My Forums, and the Stories I have up for Adoption Under the Title:** ** _Please Adopt Me!_**


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The two Gargoyles, and one human, landed on the roof of Knight's Spur and were immediately met by an old gargoyle similar in appearance to Griff, only with reddish-brown coloring that was using a wooden cane to help him walk.

He introduced himself as Old Pog, and offered to lead the three to Constance, who was in charge at the moment due to Una's absence.

"Where is Una?" Demona asked, mostly out of curiosity.

"Our clan owns an occult store in SoHo," the older gargoyle explained. "Tonight she and Leo have left to run it."

"An occult store? As in magic?" Harry asked.

Old Pog nodded. "Yes, though all we sell is non-magical in nature."

"Do any of you have any magical ability?" Demona asked. She knew it was unlikely. Amongst her whole clan, she had been the only one with the ability to learn magic. She'd used a spell to check shortly after the Archmage had been banished from the castle. She suspected that the ability to cast spells was much rarer in the gargoyle race then the Fae or Humans. Considering that Fae were magically powerful, Gargoyles were physically powerful, and humans were about in between (provided Fae didn't cheat with their magic) it made sense in a way.

"Una can cast," Old Pog responded. "She is the only one, to my knowledge. Though she has yet to check the latest hatchlings for magical ability. She does not think their group is old enough yet."

Demona did a mental calculation. Considering that it was summer of 1995, the hatchlings would have been born in 77' so they would physically be 9 years of age, despite being eighteen. And Demona found that she couldn't fault Una for not checking their age group for magic. While some may be mature enough to understand the danger of the subject, the majority would likely still be too young to. Not to mention if she only checked those that were mature enough, whether they possessed magic or not, it could cause jealousy and problems amongst the year group, especially as Una was Clan Leader.

It was one reason why Goliath never took anyone directly under his wing as Clan Leader. For a young gargoyle, the Clan Leader and Second were greatly respected. And young gargoyles were still establishing the social hierarchy that would follow them as adults. For the Clan Leader to interfere in that, even indirectly, could see resentment form amongst the young gargoyles.

As Second, Demona had been under a similar stigma. But she had a bit more leeway as a female second, than she would have as a male, since females were typically the members of the clan in charge of Rookery's. As Clan leader however, it didn't matter if Una was male or female, she needed to maintain that distance, both for the hatchlings own good, and so as not to show favoritism to a single member of the clan.

In a way, Demona was thankful for Harry's upbringing, in that she didn't have to worry about gargoyle hormones running amok. Granted, he still seemed to act before thinking too much during the adventure's he'd told her and Macbeth about, but in his defense he had little faith in authority figures due to the Dursley's and the situations had always been beyond his control.

But at least he wasn't trying to claw out a rookery siblings eyes because he thought they had a bigger portion of food.

The redhead still remembered a young Broadway doing such a thing to Lexington. Luckily, as Gargoyles got older, they learned to control their reactions better. But for the first two decades of life, it wasn't unusual for a hatchling to go from calm, to murderous, to happy all in the span of a few moments. Which meant those responsible for overlooking the Rookery had to be attentive and quick to act.

Usually by the time new eggs would hatch, when the young gargoyles were twenty years of age, physically ten, they knew to control their emotions. Sure, some (like herself) still had fairly quick tempers, but that was more of a personal distinction than any lack of control.

In a way, she found it ironic.

When she had been a hatchling, she'd attacked Goliath because she thought he had insulted her by asking to borrow the stick she was pretending was a sword. Then the two of them became mates. And then she attacks him again, before calling an uneasy truce.

She idly wondered about Harry's temper.

During training, especially combat training with Macbeth, Harry tended to get angry quite often, in very much the same way as Demona. The redhead didn't know if that was his natural temper or his body adjusting to the new hormones flowing through it. He was quite good at controlling his temper, but the flash of white in his eyes betrayed it.

After a short period of time, Pog was a truly old gargoyle, and didn't move as fast as the older, yet physically prime Macbeth and Demona, nor the younger Harry. But as the only one of their group to know where they were going, he was the leader down the hallways of the manor.

Demona was quite pleased to see all the gargoyles that looked towards them as they passed.

Bu the groups attention was drawn by someone shouting, "Macbeth!"

The group turned to find a human walking towards them. Harry smiled, and Macbeth grinned.

Demona watched as Macbeth walked towards the man, clasping his forearm in the old style of greeting. "Arthur, it's good to see you."

"It is," Arthur confirmed, before looking past him at Harry and Demona. Looking back at Macbeth, he said, "You've got a fine son there."

"Aye," Macbeth confirmed, looking over at Harry. "There is none finer."

Were it not for the thick hide of gargoyles, Demona would be sure her son was blushing at his father's praise.

Arthur then turned to Demona. "It is an honor to meet you under more pleasant circumstances than our first encounter," the former King of Britain informed her.

"I hope you will enlighten us to those events," Demona stated.

This may be King Arthur, but he was still human. And despite the many revelations that had occurred the Demona recently, while she no longer wished to destroy humanity, she was still wary of humans.

"I would be glad to," Arthur assured her. Turning to Macbeth he added, "And I apologize for not doing so upon our earlier meeting, but I think we were both a bit preoccupied."

The old scot waved him off. "I understand."

Turning to Old Pog Arthur asked, "Are you taking them to Constance?"

"I am," Old Pog confirmed.

"I can take them if you'd like to return to whatever you were doing," he offered.

The old gargoyle smiled, before allowing Arthur to finish escorting them.

The King chatted with Macbeth as they walked. Eventually, he led them down onto the first floor, to what had probably been meant as a formal dance room. But the room had been converted into a training arena.

Two gargoyles were sparing within what appeared to be a painted circle on the floor. It formed the boundaries of a ring, which several other gargoyles were standing outside of watching the two.

Harry recognized both gargoyles as Constance and Staghart.

Staghart had the misfortune of seeing the group enter first, and took his eyes off of the female, allowing her to tackle him to the floor and pin him with a, later denied by the male, rather girly yelp.

The spar finished, Constance turned and smiled at the small group. "Harry," she greeted, before looking at Demona and Macbeth. "I assume you two are Demona and Macbeth?"

"We are," Demona confirmed. Eyeing the ring critically.

She wished they had something like this back at Castle Wyvern, but the humans were too numerous.

Constance obviously caught her interest. With a grin she asked, "Would you care to try your talons in the ring?"

Demona grinned, but looked at Harry and Macbeth.

"Go on Lass," Macbeth assured her. "If you don't mind, I'd like to talk to Arthur."

"I just want to see you fight," Harry said with a grin.

Demona grinned. Turning back to Constance she said, "I believe I would love to."

Macbeth grinned, but followed Arthur out.

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Once Arthur and Macbeth had settled themselves into the study the gargoyles of the London Clan had provided Arthur, the two former Kings shared small talk for a few minutes before Macbeth broached the subject he wished to discuss with Arthur.

"Have you ever had much interaction with the magical government of Britain?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow, but responded. "In a manner," he said. "For the most part, while I held ultimate authority of the countries magicals, I followed Merlin's advice. Since I myself was unable to perform magic, I felt it better to listen to the advice of a man who was both my own mentor, and a magical himself."

"What about after your awakening?"

Arthur shook his head. "While I believe I may find some clues to Merlin's whereabouts among them, I have not yet ventured into the magical world. Even with Merlin by my side, they were resentful of my rule, without him…" Arthur shrugged.

Macbeth was silent a moment. Finally he asked, "What if I could help you?"

"How?"

Macbeth grinned, before explaining more about his history as James Potter.

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 **A bit short, but I hope you Enjoy.**

 **Please Review, Check Out the Challenges in My Forums, and the Stories I have for Adoption under the title,** ** _Please Adopt Me!_**


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

After turning back to human, Demona looked over at the stone form of her son, and beside him, the stone form of Constance.

She wondered if Harry realized the female was interested in him.

Demona had noticed it after taking her turn in the ring. And she was pleased to see that her skills were still sharp, even if she hadn't gone full out. In fact, Demona really only went full out against the Hunters, Macbeth, and Thailog after he had threatened Angela. Even fighting her old clan, she held herself back.

She may not have agreed with Goliath and the clan's point of view, but they were fellow gargoyles. And, though she would never admit it out loud, she did still care for them in a way.

But after her turn, in which Constance actually managed to give her a workout before she pinned the large gargoyle, she had encouraged Harry to take a turn. She did this both because sparing was fun, and she was sure Harry would enjoy, and she wanted to assess just how well Macbeth had been teaching their son. Harry had gone up against the gargoyle called Staghart first. It was clear the other male didn't take the sparing seriously after Harry pinned him in a matter of moments. He had then demanded an immediate rematch, which he did take seriously. But either Staghart wasn't as good as he thought he was, or Macbeth was doing that well training Harry, because a few minutes into the fight, Harry had Staghart in a chokehold, and after trying to escape for a few moments, Staghart conceded the fight.

As Griff stepped into the ring, having arrived in time to catch the end of Harry and Staghart's fight and getting Harry to agree to spar with him, Demona had caught a glimpse of Constance, and the speculative look on her face. That look was of more interest to her than the fight, which lasted a good fifteen minutes before Harry used his tail to suddenly trip the other gargoyle, and pin him to the mat. And even as Constance asked Harry for a match, Demona could tell she was interested in her son.

Maybe not enough to pursue him as a mate, but enough that she was considering pursuit.

To be honest, the red-haired gargoyle wasn't sure how she felt about her son potentially taking a mate. On one hand, she had just been reunited with him, on the other, he was at the age when, even if he had still been human, he would be pursuing a potential mate.

And from what she had seen, she didn't see anything she disliked about Constance. At least she wasn't like Broadway, she still had no idea what her daughter saw in the food loving male though she supposed her choices were rather limited in the Manhattan clan.

The match between her son and Constance was a good one. Although he ultimately lost, Harry lasted a while before the female pinned him to the mat.

By the end of the match, Macbeth had joined her on the sidelines. And after taking a look at the time, the two of them decided that they had best get back, especially if Demona was going to give Harry his magic lesson. After informing Harry about the time, and telling him if he wanted his lesson tonight they had to leave, Constance asked if she could come with them.

Macbeth had obviously been surprised at the request, but Demona had smirked slightly before agreeing.

She was positive Constance just wanted to know more about Harry, to determine if he was what she wanted in a mate. So Demona agreed Constance could come with them, and a few minutes later, the three of them were on their way back to Macbeth's townhouse.

After Harry's lesson, during which she covered several rune clusters (her son's knowledge in this vital subject was lacking, and she had lectured him about the importance of runes and her disappointment in taking divination just because his friend Ron had when she found out about this), there had only been a few minutes until dawn, and the two permanent gargoyles had gone up to the roof to change into stone, with Demona following.

And now that Harry was stone, Demona turned and walked back into the house.

She wanted to talk to Macbeth about both the London clan, and whatever he talked to Arthur about.

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Macbeth looked up from the desk in his office when Demona walked in.

He was going over his pay statements to insure their accuracy. Due to his longevity, he had built up a rather decent fortune and owned several properties around the world. Since he couldn't be everywhere at once, he had set up automatic payments with his accounts a while ago. But it was always a good thing to go through his records and make sure nothing had gone amiss.

"I suppose you want to know what Arthur and I discussed?" he stated, leaning back in his chair.

"I would," Demona confirmed.

Macbeth took a breath, unsure how Demona would take this. "Arthur is willing to aid me in dealing with the magical community. And since I know you don't want to deal with them, I was thinking that I could stay here in Britain, at least until Sirius' name is cleared, and you could take Harry back to Manhattan where it's safer," he explained.

He watched patiently as Demona considered his words. Finally she asked, "Are you sure about this?"

"Harry's more than capable of handling himself in a fight now," the old Scotsman stated. "He's not as good as either of us yet, but considering our experience, I doubt he ever will be. According to you, he's a natural in the air, maybe even better than you. We don't really have any more reason for him not to at least visit Manhattan."

"What do you propose then?"

"We confront Dumbledore with our survival, perhaps see if we can't judge his friends bigotry in some way, and if all goes well, Harry can see his friends on his birthday next week. Afterward, you can take Harry to Manhattan, while Arthur and I deal with clearing Sirius, and perhaps hunting down Pettigrew."

The gargoyle in human form was silent for a moment, before saying, "I don't see a problem with any of that."

Macbeth noticed the pensive look on her face. "What is it?"

"A thought," she explained. Smirking, she explained, "The London Clan has several mate less females. I was thinking of asking if Constance would like to come with us, and judging whether we could arrange for Lexington and Brooklyn to visit to try and find mates."

Macbeth grinned," Does this have anything to do with the looks she was throwing at our son?"

"Maybe," Demona conceded.

Macbeth snorted in amusement. "I never thought I'd see the day you played matchmaker Demona."

Demona shrugged. "Speaking of our son, he asked me during our lesson if it was possible for a gargoyle to be an animagus. Since I never became one, and you're the actual animagus between us, I told him I'd ask if you knew."

The old king frowned in thought for a moment. "I don't see why gargoyles couldn't," he admitted. "In fact I imagine it would the screw-ups would be easier, I mean gargoyles have a higher…tolerance…," Macbeth's eyes widened as he realized why the pain Demona went through at dawn and dusk felt familiar. "Demona, may I try something?"

"What?" she asked, more than a little suspiciously.

"The reverse animagus spell," he explained.

Raising a brow, Demona crossed her arms and asked, "Why?"

"It's just a theory, but if I'm right, you and Harry both might be able to become human at will."

"What, exactly are you saying?" the gargoyle in human form asked.

"I think all Puck did was unlock your animagus form, before forcing you to go through the change at dawn and dusk."

Demona eyed him warily, but took a breath before saying, "Go ahead."

Macbeth stood and walked around his desk. Raising his hand, and mentally wishing he had a wand, he muttered the words to the spell, only to immediately double over as the pain of being forced out of (or into for that matter) one's animagus form traveled over the bond between he and Demona.

When he looked up, it was to find Demona once more a gargoyle, though she was stone at the moment, probably due to it being daytime.

"Well I'll be, it worked," he muttered to himself.

He was about to try the spell again, but stopped himself. He wasn't sure the spell would work while Demona was in stone sleep. And even if it did work, Demona hadn't been able to enter stone sleep for a long time now. And she had admitted to him that sleeping in a bed was no substitute for the rejuvenating effects of stone sleep.

He'd let her enjoy it for now.

Now all he had to do was figure out the easiest way to teach both Demona and Harry to transition between forms at will.

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 **Meanwhile In New York**

Owen Burnett, Puck in disguise, grinned slightly.

He might be in human form, but he could still feel his magic. And it seemed that Demona had finally figured out the secret of his gift to her.

This would make things much more interesting when the gargoyle returned from wherever she was.

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 **Sorry for the delay. But I'm going to be waiting two weeks before posting now. Between work and life in general, I'm not getting the time to work on this as much as I'd like, and my supply of Chapters is dwindling faster than I can add to the pile. And I'd like to at least get a write one, post one rate, rather than a post two, write one rate. I'm hoping a bit more time between postings will give me some breathing room.**

 **And I know this is short, but the next chapter is a longer one. It involves some Harry/Constance bonding, and Demona and Macbeth finally revealing themselves to Dumbledore.**

 **Please Review, Check Out the Challenges in My Forums, and the Stories I have for Adoption under the title, Please Adopt Me!**


	11. Chapter 10

**So I'm posting a day early. I have things to do Wednesday and am unsure that I'll remember to post then, so I decided that a day early wouldn't hurt. Hope you enjoy.**

 **Chapter 10**

A few days after his discovery that Demona's human form was the gargess' animagus form, Demona was able to change into either form at will. Granted, if she changed to a gargoyle during the day, she instantly entered stone sleep. Both she and Macbeth were pleased with the revelation that she was no longer forced out of her human or gargoyle form, respectively, at dawn and dusk, which meant that they didn't need to feel the shared pain.

Demona figured it was Puck's reward for figuring out his trick.

Harry wasn't having the same progress as his mother. But he also hadn't been changing forms, albeit unwillingly, twice a day for more than a year. He still needed to be forced into his human or gargoyle form by outside magic, though he was able to change his brow ridge and talons on his own.

Regardless it was agreed by Demona and Macbeth that, now knowing what to do, Demona was more than capable of continuing to teach Harry how to complete the animagus transformation.

And that meant it was time for the two to confront Dumbledore. Depending on how that went, they'd see about Harry meeting with his friends, or Demona would take Harry to Manhattan while Macbeth and Arthur dealt with the magical world.

Not sure what to expect, Macbeth was wearing his combat outfit, and Demona was forgoing the usual dress suits she wore in human form. Instead, Demona was wearing a pair of pants that would allow her to move freely in a fight, a dress shirt, and a long coat which concealed not only one of Macbeth's firearms, but her mace as well.

Even in her human form, Demona was rather muscular, even if it wasn't as evident as it was in her gargoyle form.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Harry asked, currently in his human form, as he watched the two prepare and arm themselves.

"Aye lad, we're sure," his father assured him.

Before Harry could question the decision further, his mother supplied, "We have some issues with Dumbledore, and more than a few questions about his motives considering what you've told us of the event's after our…'deaths," she explained. "So we are really unsure about how tonight will go. Not to mention what his first reaction to see two dead people may be," she added. Looking over at Harry she continued, "Your father and I are essentially immortal, and very experienced. Dumbledore really poses no threat to us. That said, you don't have the same protections we do." Looking away from Harry to grab her mace and hook it on her belt, she grinned. "Besides, I believe Constance is coming over to visit you tonight."

"She is?" Harry asked. Sounding a little happier.

The female gargoyle was quickly becoming a friend to Harry. And although a relatively new friend, Harry was finding himself drawn to her, not that he realized it of course.

"She is," his father confirmed. "She stopped by last night, but you in the middle of meditation. We told her you wouldn't be doing anything tonight, and she said she'd be by first thing after waking."

Harry looked down at himself. He didn't know if it was due to being stuck as a gargoyle for several weeks, or if perhaps his human form was his animagus form (which was something neither Demona nor Macbeth was sure of), but it felt strange to be human again, even temporarily. "Uh…You're going to change me back to a gargoyle before you leave, right?"

"As much as I would prefer you to change yourself, yes," Demona assured him. "If only because you're more durable as a gargoyle should something go wrong."

"Harry," Macbeth said, drawing his son's attention to him. "If we're not back by the Constance has to leave to reach Knight's Spur before dawn, we want you to go with her."

"You think something will go wrong?" he asked his parents.

"There is always a chance," Macbeth told his son. "And it is best to prepare for that chance if it comes, than to be caught unprepared."

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It was shortly before Sunset when Demona and Macbeth apparated into the public appartation point of Hogsmeade.

""I'd forgotten how much I hate apparition," Demona grumbled.

Macbeth smirked. "It's not so bad. I seem to remember you hate floo travel and portkeys even more."

The redhead glared at him, silently daring him to make a comment on her inability to land on her feet when traveling by floo or portkey. It may be slower, but she'd take gliding on her wings over magical travel any day.

Still smirking, Macbeth looked up towards the castle that he and Demona had spent some of the happiest years of their lives in, even if they didn't know who they were at the time. Sadly, he found the castle didn't hold the magnificence he remembered. Perhaps that was due to his own fond memories of his first home, Castle Moray. Frowning slightly, he said, "Let's get this over with."

"Just remember, if we see Snape, he's mine," Demona growled, her eyes briefly flaring red.

""I wouldn't dream of stopping any reunion between you and dear Snivellous," Macbeth assured her.

Demona found that, unlike her days as Lily Potter, she didn't mind Macbeth's nickname for Snape anymore. In fact, she believed that he had taken it rather easy on the man compared to what she planned on doing to the bastard.

The two silently began the walk up to the castle. They didn't stop until they reached the castle gates.

Knowing how the gates to the castle worked from their time as Lily and James, Macbeth stepped forward and rested his hand on the Hogwarts Crest emblazoned on the gate. "We wish to speak with Headmaster Dumbledore," he said honestly, knowing the gate would detect a lie. He felt the gate acknowledge him, and he lowered his hand, steeping back.

About five minutes later, the two saw a familiar figure approaching the gates.

Stopping on the other side of the gate, the stern Minerva McGonagall looked like she'd seen a ghost. In a way, she had. "Lily?" She looked at Macbeth, and though it took her a minute, no doubt due to his white hair and beard. "James?"

"Hello Minnie," Macbeth greeted, a bit cheekily. "I don't suppose you'd let two dead people in to yell at Dumbledore."

McGonagall drew her wand, and an angry look crossed her face. "How dare you," she snapped. "You're the ones who kidnapped Harry, what have you done with him?"

"I'm hurt," Macbeth said, grinning slightly. "Would an imposter know that I sent you a bag of catnip the Christmas of my fifth year, or a scratching post my sixth?"

The old witch's mouth hung open, and her wand hung limply from her hand. She hadn't told anyone what James sent her those Christmas' namely because he would never admit to her love of catnip, or that she still used the scratching post. "It really is you," she mumbled. "How is this possible?"

"That's an explanation that is both too complex and too personal to share," Demona said coldly, drawing the witch's attention to her. "What I'm most concerned about, is why, if we were believed dead, our wills were not followed? And most importantly, why Dumbledore took it upon himself to place my son in a home I explicitly stated he was to never go near?"

McGonagall looked down, before waving her wand, allowing the gate to open. "Albus is in his office," she said. "I'll escort you."

"Thank you Minnie," Macbeth said, still smirking.

McGonagall cast a quick patronus messenger to let Albus know of his visitors, before leading her two former students up to the castle.

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About the same time that his parents were arriving at the Hogwarts gate, the sun set, and Harry awoke from the stone sleep he had been forced into when his parents cast the reverse animagus spell on him before leaving.

He hadn't been stone an hour, yet the young gargoyle found he was hungry. So he went down to the kitchen and began preparing a meal for himself. Not knowing whether Constance would eat before she left Knight's Spur, Harry decided to cook extra, just in case. Worst case scenario, he had leftovers he could reheat later.

Making Spaghetti, sauce, and meatballs, along with some garlic bread, Harry had enough to feed five people. Since gargoyles generally ate more food than humans, it was about enough for either two gargoyles, or one starving gargoyle.

Harry was just putting the spaghetti in a serving bowl when he heard someone coming down the stairs. Soon he heard Constance yelling "Harry?!"

"In the kitchen!" he yelled out.

Moments later, Constance came into the room. "Hi Harry," she greeted.

"Evening," he returned, continuing his preparations. "Did you eat before coming over?"

The muscular gargoyle blushed lightly. "No," she admitted. She audibly sniffed and said, "Whatever you're cooking smells amazing however."

"Then it's a good thing I made extra," he said with a grin. "I hope you like spaghetti."

Constance grinned and asked, "Will we be sharing a plate?"

"What?" Harry asked, confused.

"Will we be sharing a plate?" the blonde gargoyle repeated, enjoying the flustered look on the male's face. "I understand humans find it a romantic meal." As she watched Harry's mouth open and close, her grin widened and she continued, "of course we need candles as well, you do have candles, don't you Harry?"

"I...I...It's not…I don't mean…"

Constance couldn't help it anymore, she burst out laughing. "I'm sorry Harry, I couldn't resist."

"What?"

"I'm teasing you Harry."

"Oh…OH!" Harry breathed a sigh in relief.

"I heard that sigh," Constance said.

"Not that I wouldn't want to romance you…I mean I don't want to…Not now….that's not what I..." He sighed again. "There's no answer I can give that won't get me in trouble, is there?"

Constance chuckled. "No there is not," she confirmed. Patting him on the back, she said, "I'll set the table."

"Thank you, for the help, not the attempts to give a heart attack."

"We're gargoyles Harry, we don't have heart attacks."

Harry decided at that moment that gargoyle females were just as much of a mystery to him as human females.

Though a gargess was much more dangerous.

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After arriving in Dumbledore's office, McGonagall immediately told the Headmaster, "It really is Lily and James Albus."

"You're sure?" he asked.

McGonagall nodded. "Only James would know what he told me."

"I see." The Headmaster then turned to Macbeth and Demona. "How is it you're alive?"

"Magic," Demona growled. "But that's not why we're here. Why did you place Harry with Petunia?"

"And why did you let Sirius go to Azkaban?" Macbeth asked.

Before Albus could say anything, the door to the office opened and Severus Snape stepped into the office. "You wanted to see me…," he trailed off as he registered just who was in the office. "Lily?" he whispered, almost reverently.

"YOU BASTARD!" Demona growled, unable to stop the red glow in her eyes as she punched Severus Snape as hard as she could in the jaw.

Considering the fact that even in human form she was quite muscular, that was rather hard.

The audible sound of bone breaking echoed through the office, even as Macbeth rushed to restrain Demona.

He hated Snape, but they needed answers at the moment. And Demona in a rage wouldn't stop at just breaking the man's jaw. After they got their answers however, he wouldn't stop her if she decided to go after Snape again.

"Let me go!" Demona demanded. "You said you wouldn't stop me!"

"Now isn't the time lass!" he reprimanded. "Not now!"

Demona growled in anger, baring her teeth, an instinct of hers even in human form.

"Think of Harry!" Macbeth shouted.

The gargoyle in human form finally stopped struggling. "Get him out of my sight," she hissed, turning away as Macbeth released her.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore had knelt beside the potion master, healing his broken jaw. Once he was done, Snape pleaded, "Lily, please…"

"Not one word!" she snapped, spinning around to face him. "After the way you've treated my son, I promise you, the next time I see you, I will kill you."

And although the red had faded from her eyes, as Snape looked into her glaring emerald eyes, he saw no pity, no love, only a raw, burning anger and hatred.

In the eyes of his childhood friend, his teenage crush, the only woman he had ever loved, Severus Snape saw his death.

He needed no further prompting and left the office.

After he left, McGonagall asked, "Lily…what happened to your eyes? They were glowing red."

She and Macbeth shared a look. That was something they hadn't wanted to explain.

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 **Please Review, Check Out the Challenges in My Forums, and the Stories I have for Adoption under the title,** ** _Please Adopt Me!_**


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"My eyes are a side effect of a spell that was cast on me a while ago," Lily answered McGonagall. "And although most of the negative effects of the spell have been rectified, it now causes my eyes to glow red when I am extremely angry. Speaking of which," she turned back to Dumbledore. "I believe we asked you some questions."

Rather than answer the redhead, Dumbledore asked, "Did you really need to hit Severus?"

Lily's eyes flared red again briefly, and Macbeth said, "Stop evading the question Dumbledore. You have much to answer for."

Albus sighed. I couldn't acess your will," he told them. "Since you're alve, it is obviously why the goblins wouldn't release it. Without it, I had no proof to Sirius innocence, and since I could not remember who was to take young Harry in after Sirius, I placed him with his closest relative."

Macbeth glared at the Headmaster. It was a logical explanation, if it wasn't complete bullshit. When he'd gone to Gringotts, he'd inquired as to why his and Lily's will was ignored if it was believed they were dead. The goblins had confirmed thier deaths (no doubt due to something the Weird Sisters did), but no one had come to open the will. And the goblins were forbidden from opening the will by treaty with the Ministry (supposedly to prevent tampering).

"That's funny," the former king commented. "The goblins told me no one came to open the will."

"And you would trust the goblin's word over mine?" Albus asked, somewhat incredulously.

"Without hesitating," Demona told him.

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"So, what do you want to do?" Harry asked, as he finished putting the dishes in the dishwasher.

Constance paused for a moment to think. She was prepared to begin courting Harry, it was one reason she had wanted to spend time with him. He had displayed many attractive qualities.

His biggest appeal was that he was a capabable warrior, though not quite at her level. Despite being less skilled and weaker physically, he didn't take offense to the fact and wasn't intimidated . Sadly, that was something many males lacked, prefering to be the physcally superior in a relationship, or intimidated by her vastly superior skills and strength.

From what she understood, this was a common problem amongst human females as well, though perhaps not as prevelant.

On top of that, Harry was a suberb glider, the only gargoyle she had seen that was better than him was his mother, Demona. And though she wasn't exactly the best glider, her sheer bulk limiting what she could do, gliding was important to her. Though she supposed it was important to any gargoyle.

Skill at gliding was a highly attractive trait amongst gargoyles. Constance felt lucky that none of the other clan female's besides Una had seen him glide, and Una already had a mate. Though Una had commented that were she unmated and younger, she may have pursued Harry as a mate herself.

The London Clan leader had then smirked and chuckled when Constance possessively growled at her.

Then when one added in his magical ability, a skill that, while common amongst gargoyles, went largly untrained for various reasons; his talent in the kitchen, which was never a bad thing, especially when even the smallest of gargoyles could out eat a human; and his manner, which was polite, if a little quiet until he was comfortable around you, and honorable, as proven by his rescue of a woman who was about to raped while on one of thier glides, he was higly desirable as a mate in the female's eyes.

And while she was sure Harry liked her, she wasn't exactly sure to what extent. He may just see her as a friend, and have no romantic interest. He may see her as a potential mate. Or he may see her as a friend, and not realize he is already attracted to her.

He was a male after all, and males were rather dense.

She'd need to be subtle, to try and gauge his reactions.

Knowing that, she decided against going for a glide. As while that was subtle and enjoyable, it perhaps too subtle. Then she remebered the large hot tub she had seen on her tour of the house when she had first visited the home.

Communal bathing wasn't uncommon amongst gargoyles, so Constance had no hesitation in being nude with Harry. And while the hot tub would be big enough for the two of them to fit comfortably, they would be closer than if they entered the communal bath back at Knight's Spur. So she believed it to be a good idea.

It was more intimate than gliding, or visiting the clan's comunal bath, but not something so intimate that it was outside the realm of friendship.

Of course, as a gargoyle, Constance wasn't exactly knowledgable about the cultural diffrences between gargoyles and humans. And though she knew Harry had been human, she didn't know the human implications of what she was about to suggest.

"How about we spend some time in the hot tub?"

Harry paused as he was setting the dishwasher. Turning to the gargess, he asked, "What?" his voice a little strangled.

Constance frowned, hearing the slight change in Hrry's voice, and unsure of the reason. But she repeated her request. "The hottub, we could spend some time in it."

"But...we don't don't have bathing suits?"

"You mean those garments humans wear when swimming?" At Harry's nod, she asked, genuinly confused, "Why would we need those?" Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You don't bathe while dressed do you?"

She hoped not, but occasionally individuals had strange quirks. And while bathing with one's clothes on wasn't a dealbreaker to Constance, she wasn't sure how to deal with it.

"Of course not," Harry assured her. "But..we'll be naked."

Now Constance was wondering if Harry was slow in the head. That would be sad, as he appeared rather intelligent. "Of course we would be."

Harry's mouth opened and closed several times. Finallly he said, "Constance, I get the feeling I'm missing something here. But you know I was raised as a human right?"

"Yes, you and your parents explained it when we first met."

"Humans, in general, are only nude when they are alone or with thier...mate or possible mate," he explained.

Constance's eyes widened. "Oh...I didn't know that," she admitted. "Gargoyles general have a comunal bathing area. And while it would be considered improper to touch another unless allowed or mated, it is quite common that all gargoyles present are nude, man and woman."

That explained Harry's reactions so much. She didn't quite understand why humans behaved in such a way, but if Harry was raised to follow it...

"I can think of something else if you would prefer," Constance suggested. "Though I'll admit a bit of disappointment. The communal bath at Knight's Spur is often noisy, and it can sometimes be hard to relax there."

"That's alright," Harry assured her. "We can still do it, I suppose I need to get used to it anyway. And it would be better if my first experience was with a friend rather than a bunch of strange gargoyles."

"Excellent," Constance said with a smile. "You finish up with clean-up, and I'll go make sure the tub is ready."

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For once in his long life, Albus Dumbledore was at a loss.

James and Lily Potter alive were not in his plans. Nor was it in his plans that they have custody of Harry.

Sighing, he told them, "I am sorry you don't believe what I'm telling you, but it is the truth."

It wasn't, but he had nothing better was coming to mind. Besides, it was never a good idea to change your story when you were lying.

James and Lily looked at each other, and James said, "In that case Headmaster, I hope you understand that Harry will not be returning to Hogwarts. Good day."

The couple was out the door before the implications of what James said passed through his mind.

He stood and rushed after them, Minerva a few moments behind him.

But the elderly wizard and witch were just fast enough to witness James and Lily apparate from the castle gates.

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Constance had already shed her tunic when Harry entered the room.

He couldn't help but gulp at the sight before him.

Without the tunic, it was obvious that the gargess wasn't fat. Her muscles were clearly defined, and clearly visible. When she turned and smiled at Harry, he could see the slight hourglass shape in her figure, along with her eight-pack abs.

He also couldn't help but notice that aside from the hair on her head and forearms, there was no hair on her entire body. And that her breast were large, quite large by human standards, and firm; with nipples were a few shades darker than the rest of her hide.

"The tub is just about done heating," Constance said, reaching up and pulling out the bands that held her hair in pigtails. She looked at him expectantly. Finally, she said, "Are you going to take your loincloth off, or just stand there?"

He quickly realized he was staring at her, and looked away, removing his belt, and letting the loincloth fall to the floor as he did so.

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She didn't show it, but Constance was pleased with Harry's reaction.

Strictly speaking, it was rude to stare when bathing. But she took it as a good sign, especially as he wasn't running from the room.

As Harry removed his belt, she turned and stepped into the tub.

Technically speaking, the hot tub wasn't a hot tub. It was an actual bath tub, set into the floor. But it had heaters in the water to keep it warm, and a filtering system to clean out the soap and dirt.

Demona had mentioned that she'd made those changes magically, as well as increasing it's size, after she moved in, due to her gargoyle nature. Macbeth hadn't complained.

And as she settled into the water, Constance could understand why. It felt fantastic. Turning so she could see Harry, she was glad he was being so open to this.

Though she still wondered what humans had against communal bathing.

She'd seen most of Harry's body already. His light muscles weren't as defined as hers, but her was clearly fit. And the bit she hadn't seen, wasn't anything disappointing. She'd seen smaller cocks in the communal bath at Knight's Spur. And she couldn't actually think of any she'd seen that were bigger.

Regardless, she was more than confident that, should they actually become mates, he'd be able to please her. Even if he'd had a smaller cock, female's were rather elastic. As it was, if they ever did progress to that point, he'd no doubt feel like a tight fit.

As Harry stepped into the tub himself, Constance asked him, "So, what has your mother explained about gargoyle culture?"

In order to avoid situations like earlier she needed to know this. She understood Demona wouldn't have necessarily explained everything to Harry, it was the nature of explaining one culture to someone raised in another. You took something for granted, and forgot the other person had no idea about it. Even she may not be able to get everything out of Harry or explain everything to him, but that didn't mean she couldn't help.

Plus she hoped the conversation would get Harry to relax and forget about his apparent embarrassment, as he still wasn't looking at her.

Besides, maybe if he got comfortable enough, she'd ask Harry to help her clean her wings...

Maybe. Touching, let along washing, another's wings was a rather intimate gesture after all.

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 **I apologize if there are any bad spelling errors. I lost my Word Program and had rely on internet spellchecking when I reviewed the chapter before posting. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed.**

 **Please Review, Check Out the Challenges in My Forums, and the Stories I have for Adoption under the title,** ** _Please Adopt Me!_**


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"Do you want to explain to me why we haven't gone back to my townhouse?" Macbeth asked as he sat down next to Demona.

After leaving Hogwarts, the two had apparated first to Edinburgh, before apparateing back to London, though not the townhouse. They did this to through off any potential pursuit. And after waiting half an hour in the alleyway to be sure there was no pursuit, instead of heading back to the townhouse, Demona had led Macbeth to a nearby bar, choosing a seat at a table in the back corner.

"Two reasons," the gargoyle in human form explained. "The first is that after dealing with Dumbledore and Snape, I need a drink." She didn't explain any further as a server came over and asked them what they'd like to drink.

After ordering, both asked for a single malt scotch, and the server had left, Macbeth asked, "What's the second reason?"

At his question, Demona grinned. "The night is still young, and unless I've misread their interactions thus far, Constance will probably begin courting Harry tonight."

Macbeth looked at the redhead for a moment, before he started chuckling. "I never thought I'd see you playing matchmaker Demona."

At this point the server returned with their drinks. Once she left Demona picked up her glass and said, "It's not matchmaking, it's staying out of the way of a female I approve of being with my son."

"And if you didn't approve?" Macbeth asked.

Demona grinned. "Tell me Macbeth, have ever heard of the term, Monster-In-Law?"

Taking a sip of his scotch, the former king said, "Yes."

With a grin Demona said, "I give the term all new meaning." She took a sip of her own scotch and added, "Just ask Broadway."

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After a lengthy conversation on differences between human and gargoyle cultures, specifically what Demona had explained to him and interspersed with comments she made about things she thought the elder female hadn't fully explained or thought relevant, Constance was pleased with how the evening was going so far.

When she made comments, Harry listened intently. Every now and then he'd ask a question about what she was explaining that revealed she had herself taken certain knowledge for granted. It was an engaging and pleasant conversation, even if it wasn't what she'd chose to talk about while trying to court the male.

The best part was that she caught Harry's eyes drifting down to her chest every now and then. It wasn't rude, blatant staring, she didn't get that since they climbed into the pool, but it showed he was definitely interested in her physically at least.

Feeling a bit bold, she asked, "Harry, has your mother explained the rules around touching another's wings?"

"She just said I shouldn't touch another's wings unless it was an emergency."

"That is typically the truth," she explained. "Our wings are...well, they're our life. The worst thing that can happen to a gargoyle is to be grounded. For that reason our wings are important to us. In fact, while I myself have never seen it, I have heard of gargoyles who have permanently lost their wings, or the use of them, committing suicide rather than living without the ability to glide."

"I think I understand," the male commented. "Our wings are incredibly important to us."

"Yes. And it is ingrained into our instincts to protect them. That's one reason why, unless we are trying to intimidate others or there isn't room, we tend to keep our wings straight back, rather than flat against our back, when fighting. Coming up and touching someone's wings without their knowledge is typically seen as a threat, and we react instinctively to this threat. And even if someone knows you're there, touching them without invitation is frowned upon, unless you are a mated pair. It would be like...like a human male kissing a female he didn't know." She frowned. "That's not an accurate representation," she explained after a moment. "But it is the closest analogy I can think of."

Harry frowned in thought, before he said, "I think I understand. Touching someone's wings without invitation is an intimate gesture, but not as intimate as things a couple would do alone."

"Exactly," Constance said with a grin. "Though it's not just because of how important our wings are to us that it's an intimate gesture. As I'm sure you're familiar with, our wings are sensitive, despite how tough they are."

"I've noticed," the male acknowledged. "Mother explained it was so that we could more easily detect the changes in the air and wind as we glide."

"That's true, what she didn't explain was that that same sensitivity to wind and air makes our wings more sensitive to touch as well, the inner wing more so than the outer, along with the skin and muscle around our wing joints. The area between our wings is especially sensitive, but I digress. What I'm saying is that, on top of how important our wings are for survival, in terms of gliding, they are also important in mating."

"Okay," Harry said slowly, causing Constance to grin. She suspected he had an idea as to where she was going.

Still she continued her explanation, even if now would be a perfect time to initiate things. Harry needed the knowledge, even if it wouldn't all be relevant to now. "Typically, one will give permission for their wings to be touched only under a few circumstances. "The first, and the only one explicit verbal permission isn't required, is for survival and medical treatment. It doesn't happen often, but occasionally a wing will be grabbed to pull someone out of danger. I did that once to Staghart. We were leaving Into the Mystic and walking down to an alleyway since the building next to our roof access was being worked on and some early morning repair men were already on site. He was talking and didn't notice the car about to run a light, his wing was the first thing I grabbed, since I didn't see it underneath his cloak."

Harry grinned. "You didn't let him live it down that he'd almost been hit by a car, did you?"

She chuckled. "No. After smacking the back of his head, and lecturing him on paying attention, I brought it up every time we went near a road." She shook her head, "Anyway, another time one may permit their wings to be touched by someone other than a mate are occasional cleaning, since we can't reach all of our wings to clean. But since Stone Sleep cleans us, that really only happens when something happens before our sleep, like getting pushed into mud for example. The last, and perhaps most important reason one may let their wings be touched, is courting."

"Courting?" Harry questioned. And looking at him, Constance could see some nervousness in his eyes.

"Yes, courting." Somewhat hesitantly, she asked, "What has your mother explained about that?"

"Nothing." he admitted.

"There are typically four parts to courting," she explained, moving from the side of the tub, approaching Harry carefully. "The first is attraction. Before officially courting, gargoyles find themselves attracted to another gargoyle, or even multiple gargoyles. What attracts them varies from gargoyle to gargoyle. The gargoyle in question will typically then try to ascertain whether any of the gargoyles they are attracted to are attracted to them as well. The second part is for one of the gargoyles to approach the other, and establish that they are indeed attracted to another, the one doing the approaching then ask if the other would like to officially court. Should the other gargoyle accept, the third phase, the actual courting begins. The length this takes varies from couple to couple, but during this time the couple has permission from each other to act as though they are mates, to touch wings, rub brows, perch alongside one another, that kind of thing. They use this time to determine that not only are they attracted to one another, but they are compatible. It is essentially the same as human's dating before marriage. Should one or both of the couple decide they are not compatible, they simply need to tell the other, and all previous permission is rescinded, and the two go back to being single. But, should the couple be happy, eventually they will decide to mate with one another."

She paused here for a moment, before taking a breath and explaining. "Gargoyles do not mate casually as humans do. Once we mate, the bond is typically for life unless irreconcilable differences pop up. There are typically three ways to go about mating, and letting other's know of it. One way is a commitment ceremony, performed in front of the clan. It's not necessary, but some couples want to declare their bond. The second is a simple announcement, made to the Clan Leader or Clan Second. And The third is simply to allow the clan to find out from our scent, which I believe I've already explained."

"You have," Harry gulped, watching as Constance slowly approached him.

"So now that that's out of the way, I have to ask you something Harry."

"You do?"

"Yes," she said, stopping just in front of him. "I'm attracted to you Harry. And I think you're attracted to me."

"I am," he confirmed, finding his eyes locked with her own dark brown eyes.

"So Harry, I want to ask if you would agree to the two of us courting?" Constance asked, her voice betraying none of her nervousness.

"You understand that I will likely mess things up, and need things explained to me?" he asked.

She smiled slightly, "I do."

"Then yes, I agree."

Smiling, she pressed her forehead against his brow-ridge gently, the gargoyle version of a kiss. She may not have a brow ridge herself, but that part of her head was still sensitive.

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Harry didn't know what to expect when Constance pressed her forehead against his brow-ridge, but the tingly plesant sensations it caused felt good.

"This feels good," he said after a moment.

Constance chuckled. "This is how we gargoyles kiss," she explained softly, before pulling back to look at Harry. "You know, I wasn't actually planning to ask you to court me tonight. My plan was just to gauge your reactions to me, to see if you were attracted."

"Then why did you ask?"

"As we talked, I figured you were attracted. And as I explained about our wings, my original plan was simply to let you wash them...but, it seemed like the perect time to ask."

"I'm glad you did," he said, before surprising her, and pressing his lips to her own.

It was only a peck, granted a slow peck, but Harry felt similar sensations to what he had when thier brows touched.

Smiling lightly at him, Constance said, "So am I." Leaning back, she asked, "So how would you like to wash my wings?"

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 **Sorry for the wait. It's been a busy week, and I thought I posted last week, not two weeks ago...just, sorry.**

 **Please Review**


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"So I guess I'm not going to see Ron or Hermione," Harry said sadly as the ashes of the howler were banished by his mother.

Demona sighed. It had been three days since her and Macbeth's meeting with Dumbledore, and Harry and Constance officially began courting. While she was pleased at the development between her son and Constance, the meeting with Dumbledore was...well, not good. The only further communication between them had been a letter, delivered via school owl for some reason, requesting they reconsider sending Harry to Hogwarts, and at the same time admonishing them for not coming to him first.

Still, despite those issues, she'd told Harry he could write to his friends to invite them to his birthday party, which they would celebrate before leaving for Manhattan since Macbeth would be staying in England for the time being.

Hermione had written back an apology, but explained that she was currently with her uncle in America, and would be for the rest of the summer. Though she did admonish him for scaring her by disappearing, and congratulated him on being reunited with his parents (he had explained most of the circumstances, though obviously not all, to her and Ron in the letters he'd sent).

Rather than Ron writing back however, he'd gotten a Howler from Molly. About how he couldn't possibly trust the imposters claiming to be his parents, and that he needed to contact Dumbledore, and return to the Dursleys.

"I'm sorry," Demona apologized. "At least Hermione seems to understand."

Harry grinned. "She's always been rather logical," he explained. "Between the two, she's my best friend."

His mother raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you didn't try dating her, before everything that happened."

To her surprise, her son snorted. "There are just two things wrong with that. The first is that, while she's my friend, I've never seen her that way. She's...my sister. The second, last year I caught her...well, let's just say that she has no interest in men whatsoever."

"She's attracted to other women?" Demona questioned.

Harry nodded. "Shocked me a little, especially considering how I found out. But she's still my friend."

"Well, maybe after we arrive in Manhattan, we can see if we can manage to visit her at her uncles."

"Thanks Mom," he said, hugging her.

As Demona hugged her son, she thought the only thing that could make the moment better was if she had both her children in her arms.

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"You want to travel to Manhattan with Demona and Harry?" Una questioned, summing up what Constance had just asked her. Looking at her Clan Second, Una watched her nod, then asked, "Why?"

"Well, Harry and I are courting, and I think it would be better to remain together until we decide if we can be mates or not," the younger gargoyle explained.

"And what of your responsibilities as Clan Second?"

"That's why I'm asking you," the blonde informed her. "And I'll understand if you need to appoint a new second due to my absence."

The unicorn-like gargoyle was silent a moment. She was actually pleased with this development, both Constance's desire to visit Manhattan, and her relationship with Harry.

The male seemed to make her second happy, and he wasn't a bad potential mate judging by what she herself had seen of him.

As for Constance visiting Manhattan, this gave her a chance to do something she had been considering since Griff and Arthur had returned to Knight's SPur after their travels following their meeting with some of the Manhattan Clan. From what she understood, the other clan was small. And her talks with Demona confirmed this. They only had six members, one of which was an elder and one of which was female. She expected the female would take one of the three younger males as a mate, but that left the clan with one breeding pair.

Considering how large her clan was, and their breeding restriction of flying only twice of a possible three breeders moons (lest they overpopulate Knight's Spur), the idea of giving the smaller clan some of their current clutch of eggs had a certain appeal. Especially since it would allow, at least during the next Breeder's Moon, mates who'd already breed twice the chance to breed a third time. Not to mention that they had several unattached females, which currently outnumbered the males of the clan.

And while Una had talked her ideas over with Demona, the other gargoyle admitted that not only would she be mistrusted if she herself approached the Manahattan Clan with the offer, she was not a member of the London Clan, and had no right to judge if the other clan was worthy of the London Clan's offers.

Constance however was.

"Luckily for you, I was already going to ask if you'd be willing to go with Demona and Harry," Una said after a moment.

She watched as the younger gargoyles eyes widened slightly. "Really?" she asked.

"I want you to assess the Manhattan Clan," Una explained. "Specifically whether they have the capabilities, resources, and protection to be gifted with some of the eggs in our rookery. And I would also like for you to offer a chance for their unattached males to visit our clan to see if they are interested in courting any of our unattached females. As Clan Second, I expect you to do this, as an ambassador between our two clans."

Despite the responsibility and seriousness of the task Una was asking of her, Constance smiled briefly, before controlling herself. "I will gladly complete these task to the best of my ability," she assured her clan leader.

"Very well," Una said. "Now then, I believe you need to go get Arthur before leaving."

As Constance virtually ran our of the office Una used as Clan Leader, the elder gargoyle couldn't help but grin. It may not be the gargoyle way, but she found Demona's attempts at matchmaking for her son rather amusing. Even if they were rather transparent.

Perhaps she needed to take a more active role in her own clan's romantic activities. Lord knew that this latest generation were sure being slow selecting mates.

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That night, Demona and Macbeth celebrated their son's birthday.

Also in attendance were Constance, Staghart, King Arthur, and Hedwig the Owl.

After cutting a cake that Demona had admitted to ordering, the guest each gave a present to Harry, despite the fact that it wasn't really a gargoyle tradition.

Macbeth gave Harry a kilt, large enough for him to wear in Gargoyle form, made in the Macbeth Clan Tartan. Demona, ever practical, gave Harry an actual mace. Constance gave Harry a leather band for his hair, which had grown out over the summer, and was now long enough to be pulled back into a small ponytail. Staghart had ordered his gift, and earned a smack to the back of his head from a blushing Constance once Harry opened up a book titled, _The Modern Kama Sutra._ Arthur, however gave Harry what was probably his most normal gift. The old King admitted that he knew little about what was an acceptable gift for a young man in these modern times, and gave Harry a pre-paid credit card with 500 dollars on it.

He admitted that between Macbeth and Demona Harry had no real need for money, but acknowledged that Harry may want some of his own to spend without having to ask for it.

Hedwig, as always, gave Harry a dead mouse. It was her standard gift for Harry on both his birthday and Christmas. And, or so it seemed to her, he always pet her affectionately afterward and thus appreciated her gift, even if she never saw him eat them.

The next morning, Harry, Demona, and Hedwig were on a private plane to Manhattan. And Constance was secure in the cargo hold of the plane in her stone sleep.

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 **It's mostly filler, but now Harry's going to be in Manhattan, and will shortly get to meet his sister.**

 **As always, Please Review, Check out the Challenges in My Forums (Link in Profile) and the Stories I have Up for Adoption Under The Title: _Please Adopt Me!_**


	15. Chapter 14

**Sorry for the long wait. I reached the end of my pre-written chapters. And...well, things have happened that distracted me from working on them, though I have found some time to write as evidenced by the couple of one-shots and updates to other stories I've managed since my last post. Hopefully I can get another surplus of chapters going, but no promises.**

 **Chapter 14**

"Are you sure this is safe?" Harry asked as he and Demona stood to the side of the tarmac.

Demona sighed. "While I can't say I trust humans, we really don't have much of a choice at the moment," she admitted as the two gargoyles in human form watched the work crew carefully lower the crate containing Constance in her stone sleep onto the back of a flatbed truck. "But this is a private airfield, and the employees are paid to be careful."

Harry looked over at his mother a moment before asking, "How did you first come to America, I doubt even you could glide across the ocean."

Demona grinned lightly. "Your right." With a sigh she explained. "I stowed away on a ship back in … I think it was 1510. I hoped that I could disappear from your father in this 'New World' and perhaps even find more gargoyles." The redhead paused momentarily before she finished her explanation. "I crossed the continent and saw the pacific long before Lewis and Clarke made the attempt. To be honest, I thought it was paradise. The native humans weren't as numerous as the humans in Europe, I could travel weeks without encountering a human if I traveled the right direction. Game was plentiful. And for a time, your father couldn't even find me. I spent decades in the American wilderness, happier than I had been in a long time. Sadly, Europeans drifted west...built a nation. Manifest Destiny was perhaps the worst thing to happen to this continent."

Harry grinned. "I take you aren't a fan of the United States?"

"I'm not a fan of any human nation," Demona admitted. "And while I may no longer want to try and destroy all humans, I still dislike most of them. In fact, the only humans I have met in my long life I have any respect for are your father, an apothecary named Michel de Nostredame, and Detective Elisa Maza."

"Why is that last name familiar?"

"She's an ally of the Manhattan Clan. And a friend of your sister's...even if I don't like her."

Harry frowned. "But you just said you respected her?"

Demona grinned. "Respect and like are two different things Harry."

Harry nodded, but remained silent as the two watched the crate holding Constance get secured to the flatbed.

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A few hours later, the three gargoyles were awake in Dominique Destine's Manor.

"So why can't I come with you tomorrow?" Harry asked.

"Because I don't trust Xanatos, his wife, or his assistant at all," Demona explained. "And while I acknowledge that he'll find out about you through the clan, and perhaps even discover that Dominique Destine has a son, I'm going to try and keep the fact that you can change from gargoyle to human as I do as secret as possible for as long as I can."

"Do you think it's a safe environment for eggs?" Constance asked , knowing that these people Demona didn't trust lived with the Manhattan Clan.

"Honestly...I couldn't say," Demona admitted. "Xanatos is a conniving and cunning individual. And there is plenty of bad blood between him and I. That said, even I've noticed that he's changed some since the birth of his son. And Goliath, as much as I disagree with his decisions as a leader, would die before he allowed eggs to be harmed."

The gargoyles were silent for a few moments. Demona looked up at a clock in the room and stood from her seat. "I'm going to go to bed, since I need to be human tomorrow. You both know where the kitchen is. That said, feel free to explore the manor. I just ask you to stay out of the basement, as it's my potions lab and armory, my bedroom, which is the last door in the east hallway on the second floor, and my home office, which is the first door on the right when you leave this room."

The redheaded gargoyle began to walk away, but paused when she reached the entryway. Turning to look at the two younger gargoyles she added, "The bathroom on this floor is just as spacious and equipped as the one back at Macbeth's London townhouse," before heading up to her bedroom.

She smirked as she heard Constance ask Harry, "Want to bathe together again?" behind her.

She fully expected the two to be mated by the New Year, perhaps even sooner if they had enough time alone together.

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The first thing Demona, in her human guise, did when she woke up the next morning was to check on the stone statues that were Harry and Constance. Satisfied with their chosen perches, the redhead proceeded to her closet, where she selected her clothes for the day.

Since she was going to met Xanatos to arrange a meeting, she pulled out one of her standard red dress suits.

As she pulled out the rest of her clothes to go with the suit, she picked up her phone and called the driving company she used. She hadn't had time to get herself a car yet. Before her memories as Lily returned, the gargoyle only knew the basic of how to drive, though she did have a license as Dominique Destine (only for show however). As Lily however, she had loved to drive. It was one of the few things she did that wasn't magical in nature. By the dragon, she raced at a race track near Godric's Hollow before she and Macbeth had gone into hiding.

Now that she remembered how much fun she had driving, she fully intended to purchase her own car. She doubted it would be fun to drive in New York, yet she only used the driving company out of necessity. The redhead didn't like relying on others for such simple task as traveling, she just hadn't had much choice before.

It would have been suspicious for a woman of Dominique Destine's age and wealth to take driving lessons. Of course it wouldn't be unheard of, but it would be odd. And anything that drew scrutiny to Dominique could undo her identity...in theory anyway. Demona was confident in Dominique identity, but she was still cautious.

Perhaps after meeting with Xanatos, she'd stop at a dealership.

Besides, she was sure that she could find a track she could teach Harry to drive on. He'd probably enjoy it as much as she did.

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"I must say, this is quite the surprise," Xanatos said as Demona stepped out of the elevator. "I thought you were out of the country?"

"I recently returned," she told the businessman a little coldly.

Xanatos raised an eyebrow. "Still, you usually call when you want a meeting?"

"Well I don't wish to run the risk of being overheard."

"I take it this is gargoyle business and not business business then?" he said, more than a little amused.

Demona took a breath to steel herself against the arrogant human. "You know there are other gargoyle clans in the world?"

"I do," Xanatos admitted as he walked to the desk in the castle's entryway. Leaning back against the desk he crossed his arms and explained, "Goliath tried to keep it secret, but aside from Hudson, the others aren't so...practiced at keeping secrets. Of course no one's mentioned locations yet." He grinned slightly. "The clan doesn't seem to trust me that much yet."

"That's a small mercy," Demona told him flatly. "Regardless, I encountered another clan, I will not say where. But Goliath has interacted with the clan before, and their Leader sent her Second here with me." She took a breath, not wanting to trust Xanatos with this much information, but having little choice if she wanted peaceful meeting between the clan, Harry, and Constance. She doubted their treatment of her at their last meeting would engender much trust between the clan and her son, or Constance for that matter. And while she may not approve of Goliath's decisions, she wanted the meeting to go well, both because it would be good for the both the Manhattan and London Clans, and because she did want Angela and Harry to get along. "She is to assess the clan to see if they are worthy of allowing the unmated males to travel to this other clan to try and find mates, and if they are secure and protected enough to allow the clan to have several of this other clan's eggs."

Xanatos was silent for a moment as he digested what the redhead had told him. "This is a big deal, isn't it?"

"A very big deal," Demona assured him. "If the clan cannot convince this other clan's second they are worthy of either of these privileges, the odds of them convincing another clan are low. And without either of these offers, the clan will not survive beyond this generation."

"I will speak to Goliath when he awakens tonight," Xanatos assured her. "I imagine he'll want to meet as soon as possible."

"Any time tomorrow night is acceptable," Demona informed him. "Just call my private number with the time, though you will likely need to leave a message. But leave only the time, I don't trust the Quarrymen not to have somehow tapped into your phone lines."

Xanatos chuckled. "I think you overestimate them."

"And I think you underestimate them," she said coldly.

The business man shrugged. "Anything else I should tell Goliath?"

"There will be three of us arriving at the meeting," Demona said, even as she turned to walk back to the elevator.

"Three?" Xanatos asked warily, as the door to the elevator opened.

Demona grinned and stepped into the elevator. Turning to face Xanatos she said, "I, the other clan's second, and my son."

Before the doors closed, she could see the expression of surprise cross Xanatos' face.

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"Son?" Fox questioned. Her face showing her own surprise. "She said she'd be bringing her son?"

"She did," Xanatos confirmed.

"Well that's...interesting."

Xanatos snorted.

"Oh shut up," his wife told him. "You can't say you're not shocked."

"True," he admitted. Turning to his assistant he asked, "What are your thoughts Owen?"

"I am as surprised as you are," he told the two. "I admit that even I was unaware she had more children than Angela. That said, what she offers is of vital importance to the clan, if it is real of course."

"Do you think..." Fox stopped her question as the door opened, and Hermione, David's niece, walked in with Alex in her arms. All three noticed the serious look on the teens face "Did you need something Hermione?"

"Do unexplainable things happen around Alex often?" she asked.

Fox and Xanatos shared a look, while Owen remained stoic as ever, merely raising an eyebrow.

Looking back at his sister's daughter, Xanatos asked, "What do you mean by unexplainable?"

"I was playing with Alex when he levitated up to the top shelf of his room to grab a book, which he then handed to me," she said flatly.

"Oh Alex," Fox groaned.

"Hermione...we can explain," Xanatos offered.

"You already know about magic?" Hermione asked. Looking at Fox she asked, "Are you a witch?"

"Not exactly," Fox supplied. "But how do you know about magic?"

Hermione reached to her left wrist, before pulling her wand out of her holster.

"It would seem Ms. Granger is a witch," Owen said as he saw her draw her wand. "Since you live primarily in England, is it safe to assume you are studying at Hogwarts?"

"I am," Hermione confirmed.

"Well, this changes things," Xanatos said dryly. "Tell me Hermione, what do you know of Gargoyles?"

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 **Please Review, Check out the Challenges in My Forums (Link in Profile) and the Stories I have Up for Adoption Under The Title:** _ **Please Adopt Me!**_


	16. Chapter 15

Pa

 **Chapter 15**

"Demona's son?" Angela said slowly. "I have a brother?"

The Gargoyles had gathered together when Xanatos explained he'd had a visit from Demona. He'd just finished his explanation, ending with what Demona had said about how there would be three other gargoyles at this proposed meeting rather than two.

"According to Demona," Xanatos explained.

"While I'll admit, this is an...unexpected development, I'm more concerned with the fact Demona is friendly enough with another clan that they'd trust her to arrange a meeting with their second," Goliath rumbled in thought. Have you had any luck figuring out where she traveled to?" he asked, knowing that Xanatos was suspicious enough to try and figure out the redheaded gargoyle's motivations.

Xanatos grinned. The billionaire knew he'd never told Goliath, or any of the clan, he'd tried to figure out where Demona had disappeared to. Goliath may be muscular and honor-bound, but he did have some intelligence, even if he still had trouble with more modern concepts at times. But more importantly, Goliath knew how to figure out both people and gargoyles. He may not be perfect at reading others, but he usually had rather good ideas.

It was a slight ego boost for the billionaire to know he'd still managed to slip things by the larger being, especially in those moments where Goliath did figure him out or stop him.

It was one reason the cunning businessman had enjoyed, and still enjoyed if he was honest, squaring off against the gargoyle. Really, Goliath was the only one that had been able to challenge him before he and Demona parted ways, and before he had created Thailog. But he couldn't enjoy dealing with the other two. Demona was...dangerous was putting it lightly. And Thailog...well, the less said about the clone the better. His creation was perhaps the biggest mistake Xanatos had ever made.

"I'm afraid she covered her tracks rather well," Xanatos explained. "I couldn't find any trace of where she'd gone. I didn't even know she'd come back until she showed up in the lobby," he admitted.

"She said we'd had interactions with this other clan, didn't she lad?" Hudson asked, holding his chin in thought.

"Yes," the businessman confirmed, raising an eyebrow.

The elderly gargoyle pondered this. "The only two clans I can think of that are big enough to make this offer, from what you've told me Goliath, are in Japan and England," he said after a moment, not revealing specific locations due to due his distrust of Xanatos. "And of the two, only the English clan has had interactions with us here in Manhattan as well. I could be wrong, but assuming this isn't a trick of Demona's, my guess is that our visitor is from the English clan."

"They're certainly large enough to make the offer," Goliath mused. He thought back to his brief stay at Knights Spur when he ,Elisa, Angela, and Bronx where in London on their trip home from Avalon. He couldn't remember the clan's second, but he did remember something else Una had talked to him about. "In fact they restrict mates to two mating flights rather than three so they don't overpopulate their home. If they gave us some eggs..."

"...then they could permit a third flight on the next breeders moon," Hudson finished his former second's thoughts. "Maybe even the one after, depending on how many eggs they give us."

"The Japanese don't have that problem," Goliath agreed.

"Do you think the offer is real?" Angela asked. "I mean...Una was rather hostile to us at first, but I can't see her agreeing with Mother's ideals."

"No, Una wouldn't agree with Demona," Goliath agreed. "But Demona claimed that her views had changed when we last saw her. If that were true, perhaps Una would get alone with her."

"Or if Demona was acting like her views had changed," Brooklyn pointed out.

Goliath nodded his head in acknowledgment, and agreement, of his seconds statement. "I think the offer is real," the large gargoyle said after a moment. "This is a serious offer for any clan. And as much as Demona may dislike me, she does care for gargoyle kind in her own way. I do not think she would lie about something as serious as this offer." He looked over at the billionaire. "Arrange the meeting...please," he added, obviously still not use to allying with the man.

Xanatos' grin merely widened. "Of course."

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Walking into his office after meeting with the clan, Xanatos looked at his niece as she stood in front of the large monitor in his office, which still showed the clan talking with each other in the courtyard.

"There are gargoyles living here, real gargoyles." She snorted and shook her head. "The books I read at school say they're rare, almost extinct, and you have six living here."

"They are almost extinct," her uncle explained. "From what I understand, their numbers have dropped radically from what they were in the dark ages. And almost all live in hiding. Even now, with the clan public knowledge in the city, they're reclusive. Probably because they get reactions like the Quarrymen. The only reason they're here with me is because they were given little choice, and we have past history."

"You'll have to tell me sometime."

Xanatos grinned. "Only when you tell me you're girlfriends name."

Hermione's eyes widened as she turned to her uncle.

"What can I say, I'm observant," he said with a grin.

Hermione blushed lightly. "You're not going to tell Mom and Dad are you?"

Xanatos smiled sadly at his niece. "No...I'm not going to out you. Though I will say Fox and Owen know already, but Owen is...unique, and Fox is, well, lets just say that the fact I'm a man held no sway over her being attracted to me." He walked over and put a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder. "But I do want you to know that if my sister and her husband don't approve when they find out, you can always call me. I promise you, as long as Fox and I are alive, and probably Alex as well, you'll have a home here."

Hermione smiled and hugged him affectionately. "Thanks Uncle David, that means a lot to me."

"No problem kiddo." Pulling out of the hug he said, "Though since we're not going to discuss you're girlfriend, perhaps we could discuss what it's like to be a witch? Who knows, maybe you can give some ideas on how to deal with Alex's magic." He ran a hand over his face. "Lord knows I'd be lost at times without Owen to reverse what Alex does."

Hermione grinned at her uncle's distress. "Or we could discuss how hot my aunt is instead," Hermione said, in an attempt to tease her uncle. "Especially since you said she's bi."

"I said no such thing," he said in amusement.

"You implied it."

Xanatos chuckled. "You're definitely related to me, but we're not going to discuss what my niece wants to do with my wife."

"What does Hermione want to do with me?" Fox asked, startling both her husband and his niece, from the doorway.

Uncle and Niece looked at each other before looking back at the redhead. "Nothing," they said together.

Fox sighed. "Shame, I guess that strap-on I bought is going to go to waste after-all." At the stunned look that graced the other two's faces, Fox grinned. "You two are both too easy to tease. Now hurry up and get to bed. "You have that conference call first thing in the morning," she reminded her husband. Looking at her niece by marriage she added, and you have some steamy dreams to get to if you ever want to touch me," she grinned.

Walking away, Fox chuckled at the blush left on Hermione's cheeks.

Maybe if she were fifteen years younger and not married to David, she'd make the young woman's fantasies come true. As it was, she was more than satisfied with David, and even if she wasn't, she didn't go after jail-bait.

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Macbeth sat in his private study of his London Townhouse.

He still didn't know how to begin the letter he intended to write.

As James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were two of his best friends. He would have died for both them...hell, until Peter betrayed them, he would have died for him as well. As Macbeth, he still considered them two of the greatest friends he ever had in his long lifetime. And while he admitted disappoint in them due to how they reacted to his 'death' and Harry's 'orphaning', and lord knew he planned on having words with them about that, he not only wanted to reconnect with them, but he wanted their help.

Still, how do you write a letter to two friends that until recently, assuming Dumbledore actually told them the truth about his meeting with he and Demona, thought you were dead.

"Haven't you finished those letters yet?"

The old king looked up to see Arthur standing in the doorway. The other king, along with Sir Griff (who was currently in stone sleep), were staying with Macbeth for the time-being. This was both because they had agreed to help him deal with the wizarding world, and (as Arthur admitted to Macbeth) because the other king enjoyed having someone to talk to when he was awake during the day.

Macbeth grinned at the legendary king as said, "I've got one done, the one to the head of the DMLE, but I'm having trouble finding the words to even begin the letter to my old friends."

"Would you like my advice?" At the Scotsman's nod, Arthur suggested, "Don't try to explain yourself in the letter. Simply offer them proof you are their recently deceased friend, and request the meeting. You can deal with the explanations and personal details once you meet." He grinned lightly, "Probably after a punch or two has been thrown."

Macbeth chuckled. "Probably," Macbeth agreed. Picking up his pen, he said, "Thank you," to the other man.

Arthur waved him off. "I'll be in the sitting room with a book, after I order dinner. You have any preference?"

"Not really. The great thing about living so long is that I've tasted much of the worlds cuisine."

"Well I haven't," Arthur said. "I think I'll order from the Indian place Staghart suggested. I haven't tried Indian food before."

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Angela landed on a rooftop, and turned to scan the sky behind her.

Confident she hadn't been followed, meaning she had managed to sneak away successfully, Angela thought for a moment. She had never visited her mother's home, but thanks to being a successful business woman in her identity of Dominique Destine, her address was easy to find, at least with Xanatos' resources. And she had found the address out a while ago, even if she hadn't acted on the information before.

But now she had a brother, a real biological brother. And Angela wanted to meet him, preferably before the meeting with the rest of the clan.

Only the dragon knew how Brooklyn would react to him. Angela didn't want their first meeting to involve her having to dived her attention between her brother, and keeping Brooklyn from making as ass of himself.

She liked the beaked male, but his hot-hotheadedness was one of several reasons she had chosen Broadway over him.

The trick was to find Demona's house when she hadn't actually been there. Recognizing where she was, Angela reached into the pouch she kept on her belt, and pulled out the map she'd printed off several months ago with directions to Demona's home.

She was pleased to realize that she was actually closer to Demona's home than the castle was. The lavender gargess' had certainly chosen the right direction to sneak away in.

Noting the landmarks and other details she would be able to identify from the air to guide her, Angela put he map back in her pouch, before jumping off the rooftop.

As she glided in the direction of her mother's home, Angela couldn't help but wonder what her brother would be like...and who his father was.

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Harry was sparring with his mother.

Demona was insistent that Harry know how to defend himself in human and gargoyle form, both with and without his wand and new mace.

Of course, first he had to learn to use the mace she had gifted him with for his birthday. As it was, Harry was barely keeping up with his mother. He was exhausted, sweating, and sore.

His mother wasn't even breathing hard.

Demona had centuries of combat experience under her belt, and her own favorite weapon was the mace. So in it's use, she was a master. She knew that Harry didn't stand a chance against her if she went full out on him, not yet anyway. As it was, the red-haired gargoyle was working just above her son's level. This was so that sh challenged him, without utterly crushing him.

And since Harry was just starting to earn the mace, Demona outclassed him easily.

Still, Demona had to acknowledge that Harry had advanced rapidly from that first combat lesson she'd seen between her son and Macbeth. And at least he was incorporating his talons and and tail in combat while using the mace.

Constance was inside the manor reading. Or at least that's what she'd said she'd be doing while the mother and son spared in the lawn, underneath a few wards Demona had put up to prevent an humans from noticing them of course.

"Pull your wings back as you step back," Demona instructed, even as she hit Harry with the foam kiddie bat she was using to prevent herself from hurting Harry by accident, even as he used the actual mace. She could tell Harry was exhausted, but she still remembered being exhausted in the battles she fought with Macbeth, yet she still had to fight.

Harry needed to learn to work through that exhaustion, just as she did. It might not be of much use in a skirmish, but it could still be the difference between life and death for her son one day.

As she stepped back however, Demona noticed something. Before Harry could attempt to attack her she ordered, "Hold!"

Harry stopped his movement with a sigh of relief.

The gargess looked up, confirming what she had spotted from the corner of her eye. Another gargoyle was flying towards the manor. They were too far off to identify.

Demona was thankful she had reconfigured her manor's security system to ignore gargoyles. The last thing she wanted to do was inflame the hostilities between her and the clan again, and an accidental injury or death due to her security system would do just that.

After a few moments she was able t identify the gargoyle by the way she glided. Angela was, while not as good as Demona, or even Harry at this point, the smoothest glider in the clan aside from Lexington (whose fixed wing-style gave him an advantage over the back wing gliders). As the figure's wings were clearly back-wings, this gargoyle could only be her daughter.

"Looks like you're going to meet your sister sooner then expected," Demona informed her son.

"Huh?"

Demona pointed towards the gargoyle gliding towards the manor, and was pleased when Harry followed her gesture with his gaze.

"Wow," he said. "You know, I'm still amazed at how good our vision is at night. I would never see her if I was human now."

Demona grinned. "We are creatures of the night Harry," she pointed out. "There's a reason the lighting inside the manor is so low."

"It still amazes me."

Chuckling lightly, Demona instructed, as she handed over her bat, "Go put your mace and the bat away, then go tell Constance we have a guest."

Harry hesitated for a moment before asking, "Is it really Angela?"

Demona smiled sadly at Harry. She realized that he wanted family more than anything. Being raised by the Dursley's and treated so horribly by his 'relatives' had caused him to latch onto her and Macbeth easily. It didn't help matters that gargoyles were naturally social creatures, and unlike other gargoyles, he had no rookery siblings.

And while Demona admitted that being around Harry had helped her even, despite her lone attitude she still yearned for clan, she was his mother. Constance helped, but Harry needed a rookery sibling. She was sure Harry recognized Hermione as a rookery sibling, even unconsciously, but the more connection he could build the better in her opinion.

It didn't hurt that she wanted to see her two children to be close.

"I can't think of anyone else it could be," she confirmed. With a sigh she said, "I need to talk with her anyway, explain some things. But I promise you, before she leaves, I'll introduce you."

Harry smiled, and turned to walk into the manor.

Several moments later, her daughter landed on the grass in front of her.

The two females looked at each other in silence for a moment, before Demona broke the silence. "It's good to see you Daughter," she said softly.

"You don't mind that I'm visiting?" Angela asked tentatively.

The redhead smiled. "I would never be mad that visited me Angela," she assured. "In fact I wish I could see you more, especially since there is so much I need to make up for."

"Mother?"

Demona's smile dimmed. "Soon, you and I need to have a private talk. There...there are things you deserve to know. But that can wait." She took a breath and asked, "I assume you heard about your brother?

"Yes." The darker haired gargess shifted nervously. "I was hoping you'd let me meet him."

"I wanted you to meet him," Demona assured her daughter. "And he wants to meet you."

"Really?"

"Really."

Angela took a breath and asked, "What's his name?"

"Harry." Demona gestured towards the manor, "He and Constance are inside...They're courting," she added.

"Constance is the London Clan's Second?"

Demona gave her daughter an appraising look. "How did you figure out she was part of the London clan?"

"Hudson did," Angela explained. "It was the only clan we've encountered that's well enough off, but restricted enough, to make the offer."

"Constance is indeed the London Clan's Second. I think her and Harry will be good together, should they proceed to becoming mates." She turned and began to walk towards the manor. She only paused to look back at her daughter and ask, "Are you coming?"

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Harry watched from his spot beside Constance as his mother and sister stepped through the door to the sitting room.

His first impression of Angela was that, aside from her lavender coloring, dark hair, brown eyes, and smaller brow-ridge, she resembled their mother a fair bit

Angela thought much the same thing when she laid eyes on her brother. With his coloring, outside of his darker hair, she couldn't help put see a male version of their mother physically.

Demona broke the brief silence by saying introducing the non-blood related gargoyle. "Angela, this is Constance, the London Clan's Second."

Angela looked away from her brother to the other gargoyle. She remembered seeing the other female when in London, though they hadn't actually interacted. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she said politely.

"You as well," Constance said with a smile.

"Are you really going to offer our clan some eggs?" the Avalon born gargoyle asked.

"No," Constance said. "I'm just going to assess your clan. It's Una who will make the final decision, after I report back to her."

"Oh," Angela said, a little sadly.

Constance smiled in reassurance. "If the rest of the clan is as polite as you are, it'll look good when I report to Una."

Angela smiled at the other gargess for the reassurance.

Angela," Demona said, drawing her daughters attention. "This is Harry...you're brother."

Harry smiled nervously and said, "Hi."

"Hi," Angela greeted in return.

Demona grinned lightly at her children's nervousness. "Constance, why don't we go over the plan for tomorrows meeting, and leave Angela and Harry to get to know one another?"

"Sure," the English gargess agreed, before following the redhead out of the room, leaving the two siblings alone.

"Mom said you grew up on Avalon," Harry said breaking the silence.

"I did," Angela confirmed. "Along with my rookery siblings."

"What was that like?"

Angela smiled and began talking about her childhood on the mystical isle.

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 **Sorry about the wait. I hope you enjoyed however. The next chapter will have some more Harry/Angela bonding, and maybe the meeting with the clan.**

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